Last week, Mrs. T. and I got on the subject of "food regret". We were at work the day after Halloween and there was leftover candy on every cubicle filing cabinet, break room table, fax machine and copier. I think I even saw someone shove a quarter into the tampon dispenser and receive a pack of M&M’s with her purchase. It seems that every woman in the building was trying to hide, donate or dispose of her Halloween candied remains. Except me. Yeah, I ate a couple of Snickers mini bars and some of our left over tootsie rolls, but most of the time, candy and chocolate don’t really do it for me. Put a tub of movie theatre popcorn on my lap (and it has to be on my lap – I’ll share it, but I have to hold it!), and an hour later I can tell you all about food regret. And don’t give me any of that kettle corn crap (Tom), just pour on the salt. I really wouldn’t even need any butter except that it does make the salt stick better.
My love affair with popcorn goes way back to before my knowing what a love affair was. It was a Sunday night ritual for our family of six to gather around the television, be mesmerized by the Wonderful World of Disney, and share a grocery bag full of homemade popcorn. That’s right, we’re not talking about Jiffy Pop, air popped or even micro-waved (I don’t think we had microwave ovens back then, did we?), this was the real deal. Dad had, and still has, a special pan that has now been used only for popping corn for three generations. When we were little, we would each get our own recycled pot pie container to use as a popcorn bowl. Remember those small tin foil things? I’m certain that it was not uncommon for me to fill up that cute little metal container at least 16 times.
For most of my adult life, Sunday night popcorn has been a continued tradition. Last year for my birthday, Mr. and Mrs. T. even bought me my own popcorn pan and a jar of Orville Redenbocker. However in recent years of trying to maintain my weight, or more often lose weight, I make popcorn maybe once or twice a month. Before I start the corn a poppin’, I check in to see if Doc. B. will be eating any. It would be traumatic if I made only the amount I wanted and then found Doc. B.’s hand in the bowl. Can you believe that nine times out of ten, Doc. B. doesn’t want any? That’s just crazy. Who in her right mind turns down popcorn when it’s placed in front of her? Oh wait, that’s like me and chocolate.
Hmm…it’s Sunday night…popcorn anyone?
cool rats
8 comments:
Carrie, thank you for taking us back to those good old days of Sunday night pop corn in front of the TV. We did not have pop corn tonight, but I did make some last night for Marla and Mom. Love, DadO
My Julie is also a popcorn crazed fiend. It has to be exactly to her specifications, no butter but pile on the salt. She has to hold the bowl. I've incurred my share of glares for announcing too late that I want some or changing my mind at the last minute. Can I help it if the smell draws me in? bitch. I think we might be looking at a diagnosis here. Popcorn O.C. (?)
Carrie, I remember the excitement of having your Dad make popcorn for us on our trip to Hilton Head with Mom and Dad O. I knew even then I was taking part in a treasured family tradition. It is obvious salt runs deeper than sugar.
DadO - thanks for making that a wonderful memory for me! Hopefully there will be time for some popcorn while I'm home at Thanksgiving...hint, hint...
GM - So there's another popcorn lover in my midst! Let's all go to the movies soon so Jules and I can show off all of our obsessive compulsive popcorn issues!
Mrs. T. Sometimes it pays to invite people in to treasured family traditions cause' you never know when it might result in a popcorn pan as a birthday gift! Thanks for joining me on that Hilton Head trip - it was a memorable one ;)
WOW! Popcorn rules as far as the # of comments. Don't tell your dad but I use HIS popcorn pan every so often for other things. It's a good size for spaghetti sauce. :-) Love, Mom
Mom - your secret is safe with me!!!
Post a Comment