Day 93: Talk of PB&Js yesterday sent me on a loop of snackage memories. Our farm on East Milo Road was a fair distance from a store. When David and I began dating, he periodically referred to it as Outer Mongolia, but it wasn’t really that remote. Still, it was far enough from a store that we didn’t just pop over to get something we were out of. We went to the store once a week, at the most, so if one of us got a hankering (Milo term?) for a snack, we had to hope the ingredients were already in the pantry. Because of this, my mother was ingenious at creating with what she had around.
Yesterday, I admitted to heading for the peanut butter. My mother’s taste wasn’t so rudimentary. She would sandwich leftover frosting in between two saltine crackers. I never saw my dad eat soup or chili without a stack of saltines next to his bowl, so we always had saltines around.
I know. I know. Most people would normally put frosting on graham crackers. Not my mom. She said it was the sugar/salt combination that made it so delicious. And you know what? She was right. It’s the same thing that compels people to dunk pretzels in Nutella or their fries in their frosty at Wendy’s. It’s weird, but it’s delicious.
This is not one of the snacks I made for my kids. The rhetoric about empty carbs and dangerous levels of sodium guilted me into slightly healthier snacks, but now I wish I would’ve made them more often so my kids could tell their kids about the weird snacks their mama fed them after school. #MomsCompanyTowels #sugarandsalt #frostingandsaltines #afterschoolsnacks
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