Archive for April 10th, 2009
Being gainfully employed (and grateful to be, given these economic times) at a job that robs me of nearly all the functional daylight hours of my life, daytime TV holds a great deal of mystique for me. In the days I’m home, I always have plans to write, cook, and sleep. As it ends up, I find myself captivated by idle chatter on topics that numb my mind.
Today is no exception. After wolfing down two Friday Donuts, I had to step away from the Jolly Pirate box for the safety of all involved and found the remote pointed in the direction of Regis & Kelly. (My only explanation is that the batteries in the remote are nearly dead and I needed a bit of recoup time after the frosted devil’s food/coconut combo).
Imagine my pleasure when Regis pulled out a plate crammed with yellow Peeps and shared a few facts. Nothing I didn’t already know (32 calories in a Peep, Kelly). Unfortunately my enjoyment was short-lived when Kelly squealed in her annoyingly sorority-girl way and proclaimed to the daytime tv-viewing world that fresh Peeps were the best.
WHAT?!
As much as I adore those marshmallow beasts, there’s just nothing to them until they’re chewy (or, as Kelly wrongly termed, “stale”.) Luckily, one evening without the protective cellphane wrapper turns those sugary babies chewy. 8 hours to pure Peep heaven is a sacrifice I’m willing to make.
All this talk of Peeps reminded me of one thing: sugar. And the thought of sugar reminded me of one thing: donuts. How the heck did I get on this couch when there’s an open box of donuts on the counter?
Cybele over at CandyBlog has it goin’ on. Love this girl’s foodventures. And considering I’m a massive Peep-a-holic, her post on Peeps Mash Ups had me cracking up this morning! I wonder if she fell down the stairs with a glass jar of green beans and knocked herself silly when she was three, too….hmmm….
Most of my life, I’ve been the odd girl out. I hate shopping, own barely 10 pairs of shoes, would rather spend an evening with a book and a glass of wine instead of at a bar and I find Brad Pitt utterly disgusting (especially with a five-o’clock shadow). After doing some genealogical research to figure out where my branch of the family tree went horribly wrong, I discovered that my weird ways have no correlation to the strange pocket of Heinz-57 relatives but to an incident at the age of three involving home-canned green beans, a slippery staircase and a desire to win the race to the bottom of said staircase. (I have the scar to prove this).
Most disturbing of all my quirks is my constant, continual (they aren’t synonyms, by the way. Learn your grammar rules!) unending fascination and lust of all things food. As a young girl, I loved birthday parties. Not for the presents and balloons, but for the CAKE. (Yes, cake makes me shout. Obviously you‘ve never had my mom‘s cakes). One of the few payoffs of religiously attending church (pun intended), aside from the chance to absolve my sinning, teenaged soul (I did steal the off-brand strawberry lip gloss from Hart’s Department store once in 6th grade but that sin was immediately punished because the flavor was more cheap wax from China and not the coveted Bonne Bell signature strawberry…note to self…next time, steal the real stuff) was the amazing array of food in the musty, paneled church basement on those wonderful Potluck Sundays. My one year away at college was a glut-fest, beginning in the morning with two topped-off bowls of Froot-Loops (since my baby bro is diabetic, we were a non-sugar household, which may explain my obsession to this day with buying a dozen clown-head topped cupcakes and licking the crappy store-bakery frosting while tossing aside the heads with no remorse) and ending with visits to study tables not for the camaraderie but the popcorn and other snacks. Waking up doesn’t trigger worry with all the tasks I must accomplish in the day ahead of me, it triggers me with breakfast anxiety: sweet or savory? Fried or poached? Sugar or Protein? (damn Dr. Atkins and his brainwashing.)
Like Ryan Buell of the Paranormal Research Society (best A&E ghost show ever), I know I’m not alone in my quest (for food as well as the supernatural). Unlike the PRS, I won’t be driving away evil spirits but enticing them with my food adventures, culinary exploits and general need to take at least a bite of everything life throws in my path. I’d love it if you’d join me…(and BYOD…because I don’t share donuts.)