Can we talk about two of my favorite things for a second? No, not Star Wars or Rex Burkhead, but rather I speak of Bananas and Pajamas Ice Cream. We’ve already seen Rita’s Italian Ice and Breyer’s launch Peanut Butter and Jelly Ice Creams in recent weeks, and now, it looks like Turkey Hill is getting in on the bandwagon. I consider this only a positive, because thanks to all the potato chips I’ve been eating in recent weeks, I could use some freaking potassium in my life.
One of the things I like about Turkey Hill is that I can consistently buy their ice cream for $2.50 per 1.5 ounce quart. When you’re part of a family which goes through ice cream like it was calorie free, this kind of economic sense just makes sense. But the other thing I love about Turkey Hill is that they devote quit a bit of energy into developing Limited Edition releases that correspond to the seasons.
Taking a look at their 2012 schedule, I noticed one of June’s offerings is ‘Nutty Nanny. A somewhat confusing moniker that shouldn’t be confused with the crazy grandmother from the Beverly Hillbilly’s, it’s actually “banana frozen yogurt with toffee-covered almonds.” Given my love of all things toffee, it was clearly game over when I noticed it at the grocery store the other day.
We’re all food people here so let’s skip to the point and assume the obvious. Banana is one of those tastes (like blueberry) which is exceptionally difficult to authenticate under the guise of “natural and artificial flavors.” It’s not only that it has cloying sense of artificial ripeness that more often than not does an injustice to actual bananas, but there seems to be an almost odor like ability of isoamyl acetate to hang in the roof of your mouth.
Some people find this taste and smell combination to be gag-inducing. Thanks to plenty of Runts as a child, I admit I’m somewhat fond of it.
‘Nutty Nanna’s base is both real and slightly artificial. Real in that you can detect the presence of pureed bananas in the texture of the frozen yogurt, but artificial in the sense that it tastes a lot sweeter and more assertive than any banana I’ve had recently. Given that I ate a banana while also eating this frozen yogurt, I have full authority to claim this. Still, the banana flavor is not distractingly artificial, and thanks to what can only be described as an asteroid field of toffee covered almonds, it can be endured even by the most artificial flavor phobic of ice cream eaters.
This is where the frozen yogurt makes its money. Forget peanuts, the toffee covered almonds have a crunchy and toasted richness that gets an interesting twist from a honey glaze, and given the sheer amount, there’s no way the fat content is as low on this as the container claims. Not that I’m complaining. On its own, the banana flavor is average, run-of-the-mill, and wouldn’t lead me to purchase this flavor again. But given the unique puree banana texture and the contrasting richness and crunchy almonds, you’re really getting one of the more unique frozen yogurt creations out.
I’m impressed. While a big downside is the fast melting process, there havne’t been any ice crystal pop-ups yet, and the texture remains gum-free to my senses. Solid job Turkey Hill. Now all they’ve gotta work on is coming up with some better names.
For those of you with obscene amounts of liquid assets, a work schedule of a spring break college student, and/or actual friends (read: not of the imaginary variety) we are coming perilously close to that time again. No, not the NHL Stanley Cup (although that is right around the corner) but the annual flock to beaches and altogether “islandy” places as the weather goes from just warm to oppressively hot.
Having neither obscene amounts of straight cash money (homey) nor the time or company to indulge in these seasonal sojourns, I delight myself in vacationing through the cereal aisle. So what better way to mock the start to my summer to remember than with a little island spice, courtesy of the healthy folks at Kashi!
I’ve had this box of Island Vanilla sitting in my cupboard for awhile. I’m not sure exactly why I bought it given my pronounced love for Frosted Mini Wheats, although I suspect it was done impulsively after a serene experience involving an artisan vanilla ice cream cone.
Vanilla, if you ask me, is a really underrated flavor if done right. Unfortunately it’s a mute point when it comes to Kashi’s Island Vanilla, with notes of vanilla bean overwhelmed by the singular taste of whole wheat. Oh, pardon me, organic whole wheat. In either case the vanilla taste is far from rich, and fails to get a boost of an acceptable level of sweetness. The cereal’s 9 grams of sugar are deceptive, for while tiny grains of raw sugar crystals like the inside of the patchwork biscuits like turbolasers lined the Death Star’s trenches, these sugar crystals aren’t constructed in the same way of Mini Wheats. That’s to say they don’t form a crunchy glaze on one side, and they don’t hit you in full force. There were times I felt like I was eating a completely unsweetened cereal, and for the serial snacker, that’s just a complete no-no.
Obligatory Star Wars reference
In milk it’s much the same. While the slowly disintegrating wheat blocks lend a bit of wholesome morning glory that the epicurean in my can appreciate, the cereal’s lack of discernible sweetness and glaze renders it unable to tempt me into a full bowl. Likewise, I can’t definitively pick out a pronounced vanilla aspect to the cereal, and if not for the label on the box, I’d just as soon guess I was only moderating tolerating a lightly sweetened bran square.
Let me be real with y’all: my life is difficult enough to only moderately tolerate an unsweetned bran square, and cereal which doesn’t allow me to live vicariously through incomplete nutrition and fun back-of-the-box games isn’t worth my money.
I’m disappointed in Kashi. Granted, I don’t expect all natural to be able to match taste with industrial food science chemistry and corporate dollars, but really, I’ve come to expect some kind of “x” factor in subtle but distinct flavors like vanilla. Given that carbs are carbs and Kashi tends to be more expensive than “regular” Frosted Mini Wheats, I don’t see myself deviating from any one of the actually enjoyable Mini Wheats currently sold. I suggest, in an effort to avoid the chains of a compunctions morning bowl, that you do the same.
…When you’re county builds a sick library with a aesthetically pleasing garden to sit in while studying. That they include a Gingerbread man statue certainly helps.
And yes, that would be my Star Wars vintage lunch box and a PB&J there, son. Giddyup.
Anyone grilling up anything good this Memorial Day weekend? I’ll be taking a break from the snacks until later next week, but I wanted to share a story with you first, and hope you take the time to read it. Have a great weekend everyone, and please, if you are the kind who prays, remember to keep all of our soldiers and veterans in your prayers. This ain’t a Holiday just about grilling, you know.
Wednesday evening seemed like a low point. Driving home from work in a torrential May thunderstorm, I couldn’t help but let tears creep into my eyes as I angrily attempted to discern the events of the past few months. Emotions have been running high for me as of late, and a weekend after my sister’s graduation from college, they were sprinting towards exhaustion that particular afternoon.
That my sister and I haven’t been getting along so well lately hasn’t helped. Once my best friend, she’s now independent and sociable all on her own, recently graduated and head-over-heals in love with a great dude. Maybe that’s why we haven’t been getting along. I’ve grown jealous of her happiness and envious of the life she has forged, and allowed my frustration to creep into every attempt we actually make to reestablish our once best-of-friends brother-sister relationship. I’ve spoken out of turn about her boyfriend, and at some point, what turned into just joking about their “perfect” life really must have offended her, and left her hurt and feeling detached from me. I thought we might be able to get out relationship on the right track earlier this week when we agreed to meet up at for dinner, but thanks to some miscommunication, we went to different locations of the same chain. And so I called her, yelled at her, and allowed all that frustration, all that jealousy, to come pouring out like the rain falling from the sky.
With it came all the struggles and tribulations, all the crosses and all my failings, of the past few years. The loneliness I’ve felt in my social life. The disquietude I experience when turning on the news or looking at a paper. The loss of self-confidence I’ve felt because of the job market, and the very real fatigue I’ve experienced in the emotional turmoil of my home life. All of this I unnecessarily burdened my sister with, and when I was finished, I drove home in sniffling sadness, wondering where I had gone so wrong, and when — or if – things would ever get better.
I managed to convince myself they wouldn’t but God got the better of me. It started with the heartfelt comments left on this blog that same day. Letting me know that there are people who care and read is the kind of little thing that tells a guy he’s not really as alone as he thought he was, and that God answers those silent prayers and hopes he sends up. Likewise, a sincere Facebook message from a former teacher the next day — in which I was reminded that I am not in fact the only down-on-my-luck person in the entire world, much less human history — gave me the kind of “chin up, son” kick that I needed. Is the world tough these days? Is it scary, uncertain, and does it sometimes feel like everyone is up against what you believe in? You betcha, but as my former teacher (now a Brother) reminded me, this isn’t the first time in history an individual, or group of individuals for that matter, have been faced with adversity. “Take solace in the Saints,” he told me, instructing me not to overanalyze world events or worry needlessly about things that are not under my immediate control. “Do you have any idea what the state the Church was in during the time of St. Francis – the world too, for that matter??!!” he wrote, almost scolding me in my shortsighted anxiety. Above all, he told me to pray and hold onto hope.
Pray
I know I talk a good game when it comes to spirituality, but the truth is, I pray like a little kid is made to before digging into his food. My intentions are almost always selfish or about me, and more often than not, praying becomes an exercise in repetition rather than an attempt to commune with God or even focus and calm myself. These habits notwithstanding, it is something I try at, and every once in a while, when I’m really low or feeling especially depressed, it’s something which I focus every fiber of my being and every atom of my existence into.
Still, the prayers never seem to be answer. At least, not until now.
They day after the miscommunication with my sister brought out a flurry of emotions that made me question if I really believed things would get better — in our relationship, in my job search, in the world — I drove down to a favorite place of mine for what I thought was going to be a tour of a possible summer internship.
As I sat down in the office of an editor at a publishing company my mind wasn’t exactly focused on the internship he “might” need me to fill in for a few weeks for, and my mind definitely wasn’t coming back to the beautiful day overlooking the Chesapeake Bay and the grounds of the United States Naval Academy. Instead, I was thinking of my sister, wondering if this latest spat between the two of us would lead to a greater chasm. As much as I hated it, a line from Boy Meets World was running through my head.
The next half hour was a blur. Somewhere between admiring the offices of the publishing agency and wondering how cool it would be to work at a place like this, the man interviewing me handed me an application and told me to fill it out. He then was looking on his computer and telling me when to start, moving so fast as to assign me my first projects and introduce me to the office staff. Before I knew it, this man — who I had only met two weeks ago while volunteering at a national military history conference — was offering me a job. No, not full-time, but not some internship either. A real life, honest to God job, which, according to him, has plenty of growth potential. What’s more, it’s not in some menial task. It’s working with authors and marketing people in a publishing company that works exclusively with military history, and it will allow me to set my own schedule. And did I mention it even comes with a title and office? With a view. At the United States (insert obligatory FREAKING) Naval Academy!
I’m still asking myself if what happened this week was real. It sounds too good to be true, and while it’s not official yet and I seem to find a way to worry about things, even my sometimes woefully pessimistic outlook can’t convince me it isn’t going to happen.
When I walked out of that office I called my dad, and I asked him what I did to deserve this, and why this was happening right now. He couldn’t give me an answer except to say “God Bless you.” The strange thing is he was right. God did bless me, and although you might be rolling your eyes at the proposition, I really think this is why I – why we – pray. So that, when we’re at our lowest and looking away, God sends us that reminder that He is there, and that his timetable is beyond our understanding. The prayers I’ve sent up this past years, those prayers for purpose and for labor and to feel useful, He was answering them. Maybe not right away when I thought I needed them, but later on, when I really needed them.
Happy as I was on my drive back home, my thoughts were still on my sister and on our relationship. I wanted to call her, to share with her my joy and excitement. I didn’t, but the next day she sent me a text congratulating me. I have no way of knowing if it was just one of those “things we do” or if she really was reaching out, but I’d like to think the latter. Because these days, I’ve added another intention to my prayer list; for her to see that I am.
I don’t expect us to instantly become best friends again, and I know that even if we do, there’s another, more important young man in her life. I just hope and pray she remembers that I’ll always be her big brother. And if she doesn’t remember it tomorrow, fine. The next day? So well. One day though, I know God will provide her and I that chance to look back on our childhood’s and share those dumb jokes that only we would get. That’s why I pray. Not for what has been, and not for what is. But for the hope that’s in the waiting, and the undeniable truth that things will always get better.
Someone get my friend Dubba on the horn. While it’s not listed on the official Breyers website, I have it on good authority (read: I saw it in a Walmart) that a new flavor of the Blasts! line has come into existance.
And I thought Rita’s was the only frozen treat company willing to go out out on a limb and freeze peanut butter and jelly.
That’s right. Looks like the dawning of a new day in ice cream awaits. Anyone tried it yet? I’ve still yet to see it in any other stores, so it’s possible this one is a Walmart exclusive. As for why I didn’t buy it. Well, I’ve still got plenty of Tastycake Ice cream to get through…
Tastykake products are an enigma to me. Doting Mid-Atlantic grocery store displays alongside the likes of Hostess and Entenmann’s goodies, they form the third part of the triumvirate in the empire of empty calories. The scorn of Michelle Obama twitter followers and yo-yo dieters alike, these bastions of sugar and refined white flour are kept alive, stereotypically, through the impulsive spending of my demographic.
Go figure, but I’m one adult male who has never actually bought – much less tasted – a Tastycake product.
Not that I haven’t been tempted. But thanks to a redoubled effort to restrain unnecessary purchases, I’ve managed to eschew giving my money to Tastykake, instead fettering dollar bills away on fried potatoes, star wars actions figures, and the occasional compunctious charitable donation. Yet even I, in all my budding discipline, could not resist the lure of the combination of ice cream and packaged sponge cake, so when my local grocery store – Weis market – began offering a Butterscotch Krimpet flavor, well, it was game over for Adam’s tips.
Weis, for you non Mid-Atlantic denizens, is a PA-based grocery chain which has recently partnered with the Tastykake brand to release several flavors of ice cream. The Butterscotch Krimpet flavor intrigued me the most, if only because butterscotch is a waning flavor on the step-latter of sweet stuff, and because Tastycake’s iconic product is, without question, the Butterscotch Krimpet.
Iconic, I don’t doubt, but does it make a good ice cream mix-in for the kind of person who seldom gives into the temptation of the cupcake aisle?
In a word. Yes. Scratch that and make it two words. FREAKING YES. How did I never have a Butterscretch Krimpet until now? This is, without a doubt, the best tasting and most original ice cream flavor I have ever eaten from a store-brand product. It starts with the base, which has a rich butter-pecan flavor, minus the pecans of course. It’s smooth and creamy with a sumptuous mouthfeel, while also packing a kind of Ambrosia taste. When I take the first scoop I don’t see much on the way of “Krimpets,” but I soon find penny size pieces of sponge cake that, amazingly, still retain the right balance of chew and flavor, providing another element of richness that tastes unmistakably of cake. Yes, cake, and an underrated one at that.
I really can’t say enough about this ice cream except that I could eat an entire 1.5 quarter container in one sitting. Given that the mix-in of buttery and chewy sponge cake has no hydrogenated oils in the makeup, I’m really tempted to do just that, and chalk it off as a “kinda healthy” daily serving. All joking aside, at just 150 calories per ½ cup serving, it’s more than a reasonable dessert, and given how well it works, I can’t believe more ice cream companies haven’t gone to the cupcake aisle for inspiration. Cookies and candy are old news, we need more twinkies and donuts!
Nice job Weis. You’re ice cream aisle can take my work tips any day. And that’s saying quite a bit considering I am, you know, an actual ice cream man. Now I just got to go buy one of those actual Krimpet things.
…The fine folks at General Mills wish us to skip over summer completely and embrace the warm and cozy apple cinnamon flavors of autumn. Coming this June, General Mills will release another Gluten Free flavor of Chex. For those of you keeping count, that makes eight Chex flavors. Yet, as my friend Chuck will tell you (and I will fondly attest to) none can even come close to the greatness of the bygone Frosted Chex.
You know what’s nuts? The amount of FiberOne products there are these days. As spotted on the back of a Honey Nut Cheerios box at Walmart, this advertisement for the new Fiber One Nutty Clusters and Almonds merely confirms the fact that if you eat Fiber One and only Fiber One products, you’ll be so regular, you’ll be positively irregular. All joking aside, I’m a fan of the Fiber One Honey Clusters, so if I see this one on sale, I’ll likely be trying it out. Note: actual cereal won’t actually contain blueberries. Bummer.
“Men of Galilee, why are you standing there looking at the sky?
-Acts, 1:11
This blog is was officially in a rut.
A few weeks ago I wrote a letter to my dying Grandfather. In a letter back, he expressed a sentiment I’ve heard again and again over the past few years. Find a way to use your gift.
At some point in my life I decided I was a writer. Or rather, God showed me I was a writer. Since then I’ve embraced the role as a storyteller at times and disavowed it at others, vacillating through periods of intense love and purpose for the langauge, and prejudicial malcontent for my ability to feel stories so strongly. It has led me to experiences and jobs I never thought I’d have, and shown me worlds and made me contacts I would have otherwise never come to know. And yet, years after the fact I’ve recognized that writing is a very integral part of my being, I languish in a half-hearted attempt to connect with an audience over the most trivial of topics imaginable; food.
I have been thinking the past few weeks of giving this blog up. Once a nationally acclaimed sportswriter, other times a poet with great potential, now I seem little more than a freelance food blogger who has grown uncomfortable with living in the vanity and hedonism of taste. At the same time, I know there’s something which appeals to me about a blog of my own, and about the content and stories behind food. It’s that sense that I have a voice and, just maybe, an audience. who shares the value of humor, family, creativity, and faith. Touched by so many in my own life, wishing to let the world know that there are people like me and that there is hope that is very much alive, I feel called to reach out in whatever way I can, to whomever I can, through the best way I know how. Or at least I felt that way. But more and more, overcome by self-doubt (and a prevailing sense that nobody cares, so why waste my time?) I pause, choosing to wait and do nothing than to do anything at all.
Maybe my parish priest, Father Matt, knows just what to say (or maybe God really does speak to us in our times of most need) but it strikes me that this past weekend’s reading really gets to the root of what I’m feeling, and also speaks to that fundamental urge to answer the question of “now what?” when we are feeling hopeless, or feeling like we have no other choice save giving up.
For those of you who are not Christian, the Ascension (the feast for which Catholics celebrated this past weekend) is when Christ returns to Heaven following his time on Earth after the Resurrection. It’s a happy moment, no doubt, but also one in which the Apostles must have released a collective “oh shit, now what?” Their leader and Savior gone again, they feel like their time on Earth is at an end, and their roles as Apostles over.
But, as the Angels tell them, and remind us, we should not be caught “looking at the sky.” Giving up, and going into some holding pattern of plodding through whatever we’re not called to do, is not the answer. We still have value, still have a mission. We don’t know the hour, and in truth, it could be very far off, but by picking up our labors and going forward in whatever we’re called to do, we’re serving a greater mission. For ourselves, for others, and yes, I believe in certain tasks, for God.
And if I can continue to take these insights, and share the few examples of “keep on keeping on” messages that I am blessed to receive in my life, I will. Even amidst trying personal times for my family, and even amidst a combative cultural climate and the personal defeats of a young person trying to find his way in a struggling job market.
I’m not giving up on the food. Because in the food I can see the humor and the creativity and the charity in life. In the food I can see the connection between men and the kind of healing we as a people and a country need. I’m not giving up on the food, because I’m not giving up on writing, and of living. And I hope, in whatever you’re called to do, that God sends you that Angelic voice that asks, “why are you looking at the sky?”
There are a couple of food companies for which my arteries would thank me for boycotting. My heart — and mind — however, would throw a protest so disruptive that any thought of forswearing the treats of said company would be absolutely out of the question, lest I die instantly of emotional shock.
Entenmann’s is one of those companies. From their signature packaged cake donuts to their lunch-box ready Little Bites, Entenmann’s has always held a special place in my heart, my stomach, and yes, clogging up my bloodstream.
All nutritional joking aside, the folks at Entenmann’s do a great job, and not just when it comes to baking up sinfully sweet treats that are good enough to make even the most haughty pastry fans eschew their local bakery. Each year, Entenmann’s teams up with The Salvation Army for National Donut Day (June 1st, for you health freaks) in remembrance of the fine women who served up donuts to soldiers during the First World War. This marks the 75th anniversary of National Donut Day, and once again, Entenmann’s has a great contest going online where you can win some awesome prizes, including free donuts for a year. The best part? By supporting the cause, and liking the company of facebook, you’ll be helping to raise money for The Salvation Army.
And what does that mean? Well, it means you’ll be helping an orginization which serves more than 64 millions meals to people in need each year, and an organization which provides some 10 million nights of shelter for the homeless. Now that’s a cause which is a lot more important than a sugar fix, and one this blog can get behind.
And to further help Entenmann’s get the word out, we’re going to send one lucky reader a great prize pack that includes $10 worth of Entenmann’s Coupons and a special plush DONUT GUY (!!!) toy. All you have to do to be entered in the random drawing is a leave a comment here saying you’ve liked Entenmann’s on Facebook, and tell us what you’d like to buy with your coupons. You can also tell me what your favorite donut, but you don’t have to. Just leave a comment by Monday, May 21st to be eligible. Good luck, and thanks for supporting a great cause!
RT @Pontifex: Dear young friends, learn from Saint Joseph. He went through difficult times, but he always trusted, and he knew how to overc… 1 month ago
