Satisfy your sweet tooth, repent and repeat

Tucked behind ironclad gates and shrouded from view, the Visitation Monastery, in Mobile, Alabama, is hardly a place you'd expect to write home about - unless you're a nun.

Shielded from the busyness of the city, I discovered divine treats that may not save my soul, but they definitely fulfilled my need for high-calorie redemption.

From the time it opened, the convent offered sanctuary and peaceful reflection for weary souls. It wasn't until 1957 though that their role shifted slightly - from saving souls to satisfying the collective sweet tooth of the community.

Originally initiated to fund renovations, the heavenly hash candy business quickly flourished. Demand grew at such a rapid rate that the nuns considered moving into the community and hiring outside help. Instead, they decided to confine production to within convent walls and sell only from the gift shop - and online, of course.

Less than a dozen cloistered nuns now live behind the walls and make the confections. On Thursdays (candy day) they roll up their sleeves and spend the day baking everything (including the marshmallows) from scratch. And on Friday the new batch is sent over to the gift shop where volunteers sell them.

Each piece of candy is wrapped individually and packaged in a 1 or 2 pound plain white box. Don't let the packaging fool you though. Laura Secord may be well known, but she obviously doesn't have the same connections as the sisters in Mobile.

I bought 2 boxes, but only 1 survived the trip home to my family. Sinful or heavenly? I like to think it's the perfect combination - heavenly candy that tastes sinfully delicious.

If you visit Mobile, Alabama, be sure to get your own stash of Heavenly Hash. I dare ya to get them home uneaten.