News anchorpeople are telling me that as a Boomer, I should have tons of Twinkie memories. Hmmm... can't seem to conjure up even one teeny, tiny vision of moi and a cellophane-wrapped spongy cake. In retrospect, we were healthy eaters, back in the day when my parents ruled the roost. With a resident Italian Gran, there were generations worth of us being taught to perfect time-honored family recipes. Thing is, no one obsessed (you know!) about the nutritious quality of the delicious food; it just WAS. Twinkies simply did not make the cut.
As for the boys, I must ask if ever I added the nostalgic cakes to their fare. Honestly, I don't recall. What I do know is that my homemade, nutrition-packed oatmeal/chocolate chippers were often stolen from their lunch bags... did the thieves swap for a Twinkie? I digress.
My one and only gouge-thyself memory is served by Hostess Ring-Dings. "Why?" did we have a box of them in the apartment, during those early days of wedded bliss?? Now THIS event I vividly recall: Joe had a Reserve meeting and I indulged... and indulged... and indulged. It had never happened before. It has never happened again. My fat is truly health-food associated. You know, too much of a GOOD thing?! Unless, of course, the "experts" deem yet another ingestible unsafe...
Bye-bye to Twinkies... and Hostess. All kidding aside, though, over 18,000 are losing jobs. Another day, another nail... I do emphatically empathize.
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I think I'll bake an artisan bread, today. Overhead is low. Gratification is instantaneous.
