One of the earliest memories I have is going with Granny to the nursing home to visit her father, Pa. We never stayed long, just a few minutes (probably because she had a little rugrat in tow!)–just long enough to say hi, ask how Pa was doing and hand over a bag of candy.
My great-grandfather, you see, had a sweet tooth–and not just one either! He could easily eat a large bag of candy in one sitting. In order to make the candy last longer than 2 hours, Granny would give the bag of candy to the nurses and asked them to ration it out so the bag would last all week. Of course, Pa was having none of that: once his daily ration was consumed, he would then start raiding candy stashes of everyone in the nursing home. Apparently, Pa was quite the candy thief.
It is, therefore, little surprise that his great-granddaughter inherited his sweet tooth. I’m not a big candy fan–I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like candy and will happily indulge–but I much rather prefer cake and ice cream and pudding and pie and cheesecake and cream puffs and…well, you get the picture: things made with love–not in a production line (although, yes, I will concede everything I listed can be made in a production line).
EXCEPT one thing. It’s completely irrational and totally disgusting and why, why, why I love them I’ll never know, but I do.
Peeps.
Yes, marshmallows dipped in sugar. I’m not proud, but there you go. Take a minute to make that face. Yes, that face–you know that scrunched-up-I-can’t-believe-I’m-actually-hearing-this face you make it whenever you come across the rare individual that actually admits to liking Peeps. You know, the same one you make when you hear that someone likes Vegemite. The BFF tries her best to indulge my predilection for Peeps (she will NOT under any circumstances acknowledge my voracity for Vegemite, except to say that I’m gross!). She tries to get me Peeps for every holiday where they make an appearance (which, anymore is ALL OF THEM), such as for example:
And in case you’re wondering, NO, I did not eat the entire package in one sitting, much to Pa’s dismay.
The Epicurious Texan 