Nachos

The other evening, my husband went into town to attend a hockey game at B.U. This meant that my teenage daughter and I were on our own for dinner. 

Whenever this happens, we take advantage of it. We plan a menu that wouldn't — shall we say — cut the mustard with her father. He's a self-taught gourmet cook who would rather grill fish and sauté fresh vegetables. Sometimes we just want ramen noodles. But most often, our alone-together meals revolve around a very important food group.

Cheese.

My daughter looks a lot like me. She inherited my natural reserve in social situations. My appreciation for musical theatre. And my love of cheese.

I was wrapping up my work week and my daughter was looking forward to a driving lesson with my sister-in-law (yours truly is no longer attempting to teach after the first and only time I went out with her and she almost hit a parked car and I almost had a heart attack). We had several jars of homemade salsa in the house, so I suggested a simple and appropriately cheesy menu: "Nachos." 

Ah, the best laid plans of mice and moms ...

I had pulled out a large cookie sheet and lined it with foil, spread tortilla chips on the bottom, then layered the salsa, some nice rotisserie chicken, some roasted corn, chopped scallions, and, of course, the cheese, lots and lots of cheese. Then, I preheated the oven and waited for my girl. It was dark and even with her cool-headed aunt, I knew she wouldn't be driving around too much longer.

Sure enough, I heard someone out on the patio. I opened the back door, expecting to see the young driver, but found two of her besties instead. They were wandering around town delivering cupcakes. (It occurs to me that if your teenagers must wander around town, delivering cupcakes is probably not the worst thing they could be doing.) They left a particularly gooey green one and were on their way. My daughter missed them by about five minutes.

I don't remember any of my friends making cupcake rounds when I was sixteen. But if they had, and if I had missed them, I would have been out of luck. Thank heavens my daughter is growing up in the enlightened age of digital mobile technology! A few texts, a quick call, and off she went to join them.

"Be back at 7:30," I told her.

"8:30," she responded.

"8:00."

I know, I know. My negotiation skills — not to mention my authority — are quite impressive, n'est-ce pas?

To her credit, my daughter was only seven minutes late. The nachos were bubbling and smelled wonderful. So wonderful, in fact, that my daughter's two friends couldn't resist them either and came on in. I'm not sure whether they had already eaten, but since when does that stop a teenager when there is junk food to be had?

"All right, all right," I said, and added another place setting. I poured three glasses of water and put the tray of nachos in the center of the table. "Be careful, they're hot."

At this point in my story, I'll try to paint a moving picture for you. Have you ever watched a nature program in which a pride of lions takes down some unfortunate antelope? Or watched a cartoon in which termites eat an entire house? Or seen a school of piranhas in the Amazon? Or the movie The Birds? Well, my flock of starving adolescents made very quick work of those nachos.

"Thanks, Mom!" all three of my satiated diners called playfully from the dining room. There were a few soggy chips left, which I happily beagled as I cleaned up. Although the evening hadn't turned out exactly as I planned, it was all good. My stomach was empty but my heart was full. 

Our guests headed home and my daughter went upstairs to attack AP World History and A Tale of Two Cities. As so often happens these days, I went blissfully to sleep while she was still doing homework.

Sweet dreams are made of cheese.

If you enjoyed this post, order a copy of my new book Lovin' the Alien at www.lovinthealien.com.

Twinkies and Other Tragedies

Alas, poor Twinkie. I knew him well.

It was official on Friday. Hostess announced that it was shutting down. No more golden sponge cake with creamy filling. No more Twinkie the Kid. No more Twinkies. Really. Like, forever.

Twinkies are to junk food what Mecca is to Islam. What Shakespeare is to an English major. What Darren Criss is to a teenage girl (at least the one in my house). The ultimate ultimate.

My day-to-day life won't change too much. My daughter, who has the world's most insatiable sweet tooth, prefers raw cookie dough, Starbursts and Ben & Jerry's. But, that doesn't mean Twinkies won't be missed.

As a child, I ate my share of Hostess products. My mom would buy boxes of individually wrapped snack cakes and slip them into our school lunches. (My favorites were Yodels, because you could creatively dissect them. Nibble the chocolate icing edge on the bottom first. Then, peel the rest of the icing. Then, unroll the cake. Then, eat the cream filling, followed by the cake, followed by the icing.)

Many (many, many) years later, I was the Creative Director at an ad agency in Boston. We were promoting a regional bank and its commitment to small business clients, a group who wears multiple hats and pretty much eats at their desk or on the run. Our bank client was proposing to make their lives easier. We designed a 3-dimensional pyramid-shaped box with a teaser that read, "Is this your idea of a power lunch?" Inside, was a package of Twinkies and an invitation to a nice lunch with a business banker. At least, that was the plan.

While the mailing was at the printer, Hostess issued a nationwide recall on ... you guessed it ... Twinkies. Traces of asbestos had been found in the popular snack cakes. We had to switch gears. Fast. The 5,000 Twinkies packs were replaced by 5,000 peanut butter and cheese cracker packs.

Twinkies for lunch? Funny.
Peanut butter and cheese crackers for lunch? Not so much.

But happily, that's not the only time Hostess played a role in my career. At a different agency, Twinkies helped us crack a difficult client relationship. Our client, a marketing director from a major financial services organization, was demanding, humorless and downright ornery. We were at our wits' end. Until, someone had the bright idea of bringing a tray of snack cakes into the meeting. Almost instantly, the disgruntled adult became a playful kid. For the first time in many months, the client smiled, laughed and actually appreciated the advertising ideas.

Thank you, Twinkie the Kid!

And now, in 2012 — the year that the ancient Mayans foretold life as we know it would end — Twinkies are no more.

What of Twinkies' less celebrated but equally sinful sisters and brothers? Along with T's demise, we must also mourn the loss of the famous Hostess Cupcake, Hostess Ding Dong and Hostess Ho Ho. I confess I'll miss even the most disgusting snack cake of all: the Hostess Sno Ball. No matter how many sweets or how much garbage was in my shopping cart, I could always feel self-righteous as I passed by those revolting pink monstrosities. 

And, in the monopolistic world of snack cakes, Hostess takes other labels with it. At this sad, sad time, we are also losing Drake's with its Yodels (sob), Ring Dings and Devil Dogs.

Twinkies were invented in 1930 but in this day and age, their loss is rippling through cyberspace. Google "Twinkies" and you'll come up with nearly 14 million hits in 0.17 seconds. (Who measures this stuff anyway?) For a real laugh, go on ebay and you'll find 12,800 active auctions. I have to assume that the $18,000,000 listing is a joke. There's a $3,000 Twinkie lunchbox and a $3,000 Twinkie Hawaiian shirt. But, my favorite is the vintage full-length mink coat that lists "Bonus 1 Sealed Twinkie."

But, fear not my vegan readers. Before I let my nostalgia for a snack cake persuade me to buy an ethically irresponsible coat, I am comforted by my belief that someone will bail out Twinkies. It's no different from Wall Street or the auto industry. What would America be without Hostess cakes? It's just a matter of time.

After all, everybody loves a comeback. 

Hold On To Fifteen As Long As You Can

My daughter turned fifteen on Saturday. She celebrated all weekend — cupcakes, a movie, a sleepover, out for dinner, an "Adventure Trail Ride" with her beloved horse, presents and then ... more cupcakes. 

My husband and I walked around dazed, muttering to each other and ourselves, "How can she be fifteen?" "When did that happen? " and "We are so-o-o-o old.""

This birthday, more than any other to date, feels like a major milestone. Maybe it's because she just started high school a couple of weeks ago. Or maybe it's because I remember so keenly how it felt to be fifteen. I certainly didn't think of myself as a child.

Growing up in New York City, I had far more autonomy than my daughter does. (And growing up in the 1970s, I had far far fewer electronics.) But, I still experienced a lot of the confusion and wonder and pressure and joy and sorrow that she's feeling right now.

So, for this post, I was trying to think of advice I could give her. Instead, I've turned to some other very smart women.

Happy birthday, sweetie. These are for you:


1. "Remember, no one can make you feel inferior without your consent." 

Eleanor Roosevelt 

2. "Understand that the right to choose your own path is a sacred privilege. Use it." 

Oprah Winfrey 

3. "When you do the best you can, you never know what miracle is wrought in your life or in the life of another."

Helen Keller

4. "If you can't make it better, you can laugh at it."

Erma Bombeck

5. "The most effective way to do it is to do it."

Amelia Earhart

6. "The good news is that you don't know how great you can be! How much you can love! What you can accomplish!"

Anne Frank

7. "You grow up the day you have your first real laugh at yourself."

Ethel Barrymore

8. "You can do no great things, only small things with great love."

Mother Teresa

9. "Success is getting what you want, happiness is wanting what you get."

Ingrid Bergman

10. "Nobody cares if you can't dance well. Just get up and dance. Great dancers are not great because of their technique, they are great because of their passion."

Martha Graham

11. "Always go with the choice that scares you the most, because that's the one that is going to require the most from you."

Caroline Myss

12. "When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time."

Maya Angelou

13. "Just don't give up trying to do what you really want to do. Where there is love and inspiration, I don't think you can go wrong."

Ella Fitzgerald

14. "You may be disappointed if you fail, but you are doomed if you don't try."

Beverly Sills 

15. “About all you can do in life is be who you are.”

Rita Mae Brown