Margarete’s Fine Chocolates

We had a wonderful experience meeting and chatting with the nice gentleman who runs the store. He even guided us by phone when we got lost trying to find the new location. We were searching for Tupelo honey and he kindly gave us a history as to why there are no longer Tupelo trees growing in Mississippi, so the honey now comes from Florida or Georgia. It is real Tupelo honey, with the store’s label placed over the original since they are selling it. There was nothing dishonest going on! Lovely place with delicious candy and honey.

False Advertisement on the Tupelo honey! It’s their own label that says Tupelo honey! When in fact if you peel off their sticker you see the real label of the actual bottler of the honey and it comes from Florida product of Florida! The other kind they have same situation. Except it comes from Georgia. Maybe I’ll go back home and buy some from the grocery store and print a label that says Tupelo Honey and put that on it. Because that is exactly what they did. But they do have good chocolates. Their Tupelo honey is a scam

Sort of a hidden gem in Tupelo. It’s in a location that is easy to overlook but if you’re looking for anything chocolate in Tupelo, this is definately the place. Huge selection and good stuff.

A couple of Christmases ago, my parents received a bottle of Tupelo honey as part of a thank you gift for donating money to a charity and I swear it didn’t last more than a week in our house. There must be some sort honey flavored crack in this stuff, it’s so unbelievably good. When my best friend and I were planning the southern route of our road trip, I knew I had to find somewhere to stock up.
The trusty GPS was already leading us through Tupelo on the road between Memphis and Atlanta, so we were pretty sure we’d be able to scope a nice local spot where I could get my honey fix. Once we got in the city limits, however, we were perplexed on where to obtain that sweet golden nectar. Our first instinct was to check the gift shop of Elvis Presley’s birthplace which yielded no honey. As we were about to walk out, a very nice woman at the information desk gave us crucial information: Margarete’s Fine Chocolates.
We zipped right on out of there (my apologies to the King for not taking the time to see his birthplace, but this was a mission that was begging for completion) and a few stoplights later we had arrived at the Promised Land. We were quickly greeted by an extremely friendly, extraordinarily helpful gentleman who seemed rather bemused by two obvious out-​of-​towners. He helped my chocolate addicted friend at the glass display while I plopped myself down in front of various sized honey containers and tried not to pee myself with excitement. We probably spent about 20 minutes in there discussing not only the delicious treats laid in front of us, but all the stops we had made on the trip thus far, and where we planned to go next.
As we were about to walk out of the store with our purchases (I spent 40 bucks on honey!), our friendly salesman called us back and handed us a CD-​R as a parting gift. We were both a little puzzled and weren’t even able to play it right away because my car hates burned CDs. A week later when we were back in Boston, we finally slipped it in to uncover the mystery.
The nice southern gentleman from Margarete’s in Mississippi had given us a copy of — what else — Tupelo Honey by Van Morrison.