she will not buy halloween candy yet. she will not buy halloween candy yet. she will not buy halloween candy yet.
Mrs. G. joined Weight Watchers a week ago and decided to go all the way with the program and actually attend meetings. She went to her second meeting on Tuesday and she can't tell you she enjoyed it. The meeting room was painted an industrial green and the metal folding chairs were an uncomfortable reminder of how some asses fit better in chairs than others. It was difficult to concentrate with the smell deep fried egg rolls and Kung Pao chicken drifting through the vents from the Chinese restaurant next door. And yet Mrs. G. and 23 other people showed up and weighed in, resigned to spend the next half hour regenerating resolve and celebrating the victory of a pound or two lost. This week Mrs. G's WW leader focused the discussion on trigger foods, and the group took turns discussing foods that lured them to the dark side: ice cream, chips, french fries, peanut butter, candy. Nearly everyone agreed that their love for these trigger foods was a holdover from childhood and old patterns, and the leader suggested it might be helpful to journal about earlier feelings regarding food and it's impact on personal happiness. As is often the case when asked to do any sort of therapeutic self reflection, Mrs. G. skipped the therapeutic self reflection and went straight to the glorious memories of the food of her youth. And, reader, they are good ones.
Like these lacquer sugar coated peanuts...
or the southern delicacy known as potted meat. Mixed with a dab of mayonnaise and relish, a Deviled Ham sandwich was a big deal in Mrs. G's house -- a real cut above peanut butter. Mrs. G remembers asking her mother what Deviled Ham was made of. When her mother matter-of-factly told her animal lips, Mrs. G. really didn't bat an eye. It was a more innocent time.
Mrs. G. would ride her purple bike with the flowered banana seat two miles to the 7-11 to get a package of this stuff. While she loved the tang of the fruit flavored powder, the real draw for her was the vanilla flavored chalk dipping sticks. She usually ate one stick right away to quell her uncontrollable urge to stuff them them both in her mouth as quickly as possible. When both sticks were consumed, Mrs. G. would go back in to the convenience store and buy a pack of smokes for her mom, who would send Mrs. G. with signed note to present to the store clerk in case he had a moral dilemma selling cigarettes to a ten-year-old. He didn't. Again, more innocent time.
Mrs. G's grandfather would often bring her one of these when he came to visit. Mrs. G. enjoyed its crunchy peanut butter wrapped in toasted coconut taste and appreciated the candy bar's texture which was akin to a termite ridden, rotten log- flaky, crumbly and delicious.
Just the notion of a white candy bar was enough to dazzle Mrs. G, but the Zero's combination of caramel, peanut and almond nougat covered with a layer of white fudge just plain blew her mind.
If you needed to pull out a filling for any reason, all you had to bite one of these really hard. Mrs. G. knows Now and Laters are still sold but they are a namby pamby version and lack the original recipe's dental destroying power.
If you needed to pull out a tooth for any reason, this baby was the answer.
Nearly every morning Mrs. G. had a glass or two of this. She would sip it from a coffee cup to feel grown up. Mrs. G's grandmother bought Tang because it was healthy and not because, as she would tell anyone who had ears, it was the drink of astronauts. Mrs. G's grandmother wasn't a real believer in funding anything space travel. She felt strongly there was plenty to do right here on God's green earth for Christ's sake. Jesus.
On a hot Memphis day, nothing soothed Mrs. G more than an icy bottle of this. She perfected popping off its top with a tree trunk and some elbow grease. A cold orange Fanta was a close second.
Ahh, childhood and all it's attending superbness is, thankfully, a world or two away from the rigidity of calculating calories and settling one's ass in a metal folding chair to discuss accountability and self-control. Thank God for memories.
Reader, put it out there. What was your childhood food/candy of choice?