My name is Tom Sciascia (pronounced sha-sha).
I grew up in New Village, a small town in central New Jersey. Riding my bike up the street to Archie’s candy store was perhaps one of the greatest thrills of my childhood. I remember the smells and excitement of purchasing my favorite chocolates, all of it enchanted me. At the age of ten I began oil painting the visual feasts before me—from sprawling cornfield landscapes to ripe red tomato still lifes. I lived each day to paint. Throughout my high school and college years my artwork was recognized, leading me to pursue a degree in medical illustration and graphic design.
In 1990, Loren and I opened a graphic design studio. With clients ranging from SAP America to Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, our work won national accolades for excellence in design. But as often happens, life changes. When the attacks of 9/11 devastated our worlds, I realized I was destined to create my art for a different palate. As we all did, 9/11 made me stop and think about life and what this journey is all about. For me, I went back to my roots, to my childhood, to my family. Growing up in a very close Italian family, marinated in love, I was spoiled with the riches of simple and fresh homemade food and its ability to bring such incredible happiness. And Sciascia Confections was born.
And at the heart of it all is my unwavering passion and desire to bring you moments of sheer happiness and joy. I pour my love for all of it into each and every chocolate and confection I make. My heart and soul goes into every bite you take, and every event, favor, or corporate gift that I create for you to share with those you hold dear. Sciascia Confections is truly a feast for the senses. Enjoy the journey my friend. Life is precious. Savor every moment. Thank you so much for being here. ––Tom
And then Loren walked in
It was the spring of 1983. I was staring out my open window from the second floor of my dorm room, daydreaming and thinking about the meaning of it all, as I did on the daily. Sun streaming in, air filling my lungs with the sweet aroma of blooming magnolia flowers on trees lining the walkway to the classroom building. It was one of those days that you could feel the exhilarating heart beat of life all around you. And then as if in slow motion I saw her. This girl. Her beautiful long brown hair flowing, being swayed gently by spring's warm breath. White sweater, faded bluejeans, she walked towards my dorm and "Tom, come on let's go, everyone's waiting for you to go to lunch," yelled my roommate. And she was gone.
I never saw her again, until September of my senior year, three years later. My door propped open, this girl walked into my room on move-in day and said "hi, I'm Loren, I'm your RA [resident assistant], do you need any help moving in?" I was flustered and confused as to where to put my drafting table and bed and dresser and said so. Like a conductor of an orchestra she waved her hands and directed me to arrange my life's only possessions in perfect harmony. I was in awe. She was so nice. So beautiful. So out of my league.
But we would become the best of friends. Eat potato chips. Laugh like crazy. Have long lunches. Eat french fries. Talk forever. On a hot summer's day, in June of 1990, in a castle on the campus of the college we had our first date, we tied the knot so we would never let go of the ever after.
Loren truly is a conductor on so many levels. From coordinating our amazing team, to inventory, deadlines, shipping, customer connections, tying thousands of bows, coming up with brilliant ideas, the list goes on. My partner in crime, with whom I laugh, brainstorm, drink coffee, work tirelessly and seamlessly 24/7, I'm so glad she walked into my life.