I've been watching too much Cooking Channel on TV lately. They have so many shows about snack foods that they make my mouth water for anything salty, sweet and crunchy.
Michelle just got home, from a Super Bowl party. She was telling me about the 6-foot hero, chips and dip, wings and things that she had to eat. I had to stop her, as I was getting hungry yet again.
Some of my favorite snack foods include, but are not limited to the following; Fritos Corn Chips, Sour Cream and Onion Potato Chips, Cheeze Doodles and Doritos. Put a bag of any of those in front of me and stand back, because they will disappear in just a few moments; unless of course my wife is nearby.
What wait, there's more. How can we forget about anything in the baked category? Give me cake or give me death I used to say. Then the doctors got involved and said watch the carbs and sugar. The days of eating 3 or so donuts at a time are long gone, along with several pieces of cake, pie or cupcakes.
My favourite cake is red velvet. Of course, my wife doesn't like it, but she will make it on special occasions, such as my birthday, which is coming up shortly. A couple of summers ago Melissa and I went to some of the local bakeries to try their various goodies. I usually got a red velvet cupcake, and enjoyed it very much.
Sometimes at work, usually on holidays or birthdays, the manager will get a nice cake for anyone having a birthday that month. Even better, one of the "motherly" women will bake a cake or get one from a bakery. Everyone certainly appreciates a nice cake.
Remember your mother telling you "...don't let your eyes be bigger than your stomach?" It's easy to forget that when you're at a party and there are more snacks, appetizers and main courses than you can imagine. Your eyes say more, more, more, but you hear the doctor's whisper in your ear: no, no, no. I don't need them. I have my wife looking at me like a hawk watching its prey.
Here's something funny I found out years ago. My father in law used to keep cake in the freezer that was in the basement, along with a knife to cut off a slice if he didn't feel like going upstairs. That’s ingenious, I thought. My mother in law didn't feel the same way.
When I go into any supermarket or big box store, it's always a challenge for me to stay away from the snack food aisles. I always hear the bags of snacks calling to me with their siren song of delicious decadence, open me up and eat me, dip me, crunch me, have your way with me.
I make it past them, get what I have to, and run out of the store as fast as I can, finally heaving a sigh of relief when I get to the car. Then I get home and really wished I had gotten a bag of one of those snacks.
I didn't, so there is no guilt involved. Just regret until next time.
Matt Seinberg lives on Long Island, a few minutes east of New York City. He looks at everything around him and notices much. Somewhat less cynical than dyed in the wool New Yorkers, Seinberg believes those who don't see what he does like reading about what he sees and what it means to him. Seinberg columns revel in the silly little things of life and laughter as well as much well-directed anger at inept, foolish public officials. Mostly, Seinberg writes for those who laugh easily at their own foibles as well as those of others.
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