Wednesday, October 10, 2018

The Captain of my Corn.

Sometimes the deadly combination of bored and hungry hits me, and I am compelled to leave my house and wander the aisles of Trader Joe's. 

Sometimes I go into Trader Joe's for two things, and I leave carrying two bags having spent 62 dollars.

Also, sometimes I stand in the Cookie Butter aisle talking to anyone who cares to chat, or just listen, about Cookie Butter.

Trader Joe's. 
O Captain! My Captain!

And now there's this.

My love of all things candy corn is well known, so much so that once September hits people make a point of congratulating me, telling me they're happy for me and wishing me a "happy candy corn season" so I guess I talk about it. A lot. 

These bags are pretty small (.5 oz) 
I bought two. To be safe.

And duh...Candy Corn Popcorn is delicious.

I mean, does it taste exactly like candy corn? Not really. There is a caramel-corn-like-coating on each puffy, perfect kernel -- much more sweet than salty. of the two bags from 45 minutes ago is gone already so what does that tell you.

I recommend picking up a bag (or two) before candy corn season is over. Look -- there's a jack-o-lantern on the bag. Not just a pumpkin, a jack-o-lantern. I'm nervous these will be gone 11/1.

*A friendly reminder that candy corn is great, Brach's is the only brand of candy corn you should buy, "Valentine corn" "Easter corn" and "Christmas corn" are not a thing and that the bags marked "Autumn Mix" with the big pumpkins and the corn with the brown stuff is terrible. You're welcome.

Monday, April 16, 2018

A Love Letter to Frozen Yogurt.

A friend asked if I wanted to go get some frozen yogurt sometime this week and of course I do. 

I. Love. Frozen. Yogurt.

As a chubby girl of the '70s I was often subjected to ice milk as a "treat" over the ice cream cups with the paper lids and pull tabs my brother and friends would get. I know my parents thought they were helping me but really what they were doing was starting me down a path of fad diets and self loathing. 

If you were ever given a cup of ice milk you know the pain of which I speak. The little cups I got were a brand called Sealtest -- Howard Johnson made ice milk too and in other areas they'd switch words around and call it "milk ice" but it was the same tiny cups of bullshit. When you peeled back the paper lid you were met with a bunch of ice crystals sitting on top of what tasted like skim milk. 

As a teen of the '80s I was naturally wary of this new invention called frozen yogurt. I was having ice milk flashbacks wondering why anyone would want "healthy ice cream" or yogurt that was frozen. Then I walked into my first TCBY and my life changed. 

The TCBY (This Can't Be Yogurt) in Tampa, Florida was located where everything else in Tampa, Florida was -- a strip mall. 

There were no toppings, no self-serve-pay-by-the-weight thing happening back then. People stood behind a counter wearing green aprons and visors to serve you soft serve frozen yogurt in a cup or a cone, bing-bang-boom.

'80s fro yo was rich, creamy and delicious. You could get vanilla, chocolate, a swirl or a featured flavor they'd offer, the one I always associate with TCBY was a very sophisticated sounding flavor called white chocolate mousse which really didn't taste like white chocolate or mousse but it was delicious. 

Overnight other frozen yogurt places were opening up all over Tampa. There was "I Can't Believe It's Yogurt" which was not a rip off at all of TCBY, and Stars Frozen Yogurt, which quickly became a favorite of my girl gang since it used to be an old dry cleaners and had a drive thru. We didn't even have to get out of our car. I'm pretty sure 97% of my senior year was spent licking a Stars vanilla/chocolate swirl in the backseat of somebody's car.

On a Stars run with Sharon and Susanne, I'm in the back with a camera and a waffle cone.
Also, I'd bet my life that Def Leppard's Hysteria is blasting.

I'm still super into frozen yogurt...its resurgence makes me very happy. I don't love that newfangled tart-yogurty-yogurt, but I do appreciate the hell out of some modern day cake batter yogurt.  

And toppings. I love toppings! Candy bars, hunks of pound cake, cookie crumbles, graham cracker cheesecake bites...all delicious.

But sometimes I miss my original. My melty, creamy, topping free licks under the blaze of the Tampa sun. 

Cake batter, you're great. But you'll never be my White Chocolate Mousse.

Monday, March 19, 2018

Please, Mr. Eggman.

If you ask me chocolate or vanilla I will choose vanilla every time. Vanilla soft serve, vanilla cupcakes, vanilla milkshakes, vanilla, vanilla, vanilla with extra vanilla please. Vanilla.

Except for one time of year. This time of year. Because of these:

I just back from the grocery store because I had to buy a bag to replace the bag that was purchased yesterday for me and my family. To share. Whoops.

I decided I better get two bags this trip in case I plow through the one because I'm gonna need another one, to replace that one. This is the way my brain operates.

Milk Chocolate Cadbury Mini Eggs -- each and every spring the only thing that could make me choose chocolate over vanilla. They're only available once a year which is good, because I don't want to go into a diabetic coma, and bad, because they make me so happy and I love them so much. 

I don't know what drug besides sugar they put in these pastel speckled wonders (maybe it's that "dairy milk" they use?) but I do know that I am addicted. Here is the overly thought out ritualistic way in which I eat them: 

  • Two at a time
  • Let eggs get all warm and melty
  • Crack candy shell with molar
  • Skillfully separate candy from chocolate (if you can tie a cherry stem into a bow in your mouth you have an advantage here)
  • Chomp crunchy candy shell
  • Savor delicious melty chocolate
  • Repeat as necessary. Like, until you need to go to the store for two more bags.

I love you, little eggs. To me you are the candy corn of spring and that is insanely high praise. Stay sweet.