From the very moment that I learned of the publication of David Magee's MoonPie: Biography of an Out•Of•This•World Snack - I knew that I had to read it.
I know, I know. I'm not normal.
And whoever heard of a snack food with its own biography?
But MoonPies are from East Tennessee, and so am I.
So I had to read it.
And that's when the trouble began...
Now the trouble didn't begin with the book. No siree.
The book is great. It's cute, well-researched, entertainingly written. It lovingly details the history of the original chocolate-covered graham cracker and marshmallow sandwich treat.
I highly recommend it, if food biographies are your kind of thing.
You know, even if they're not your kind of thing I'd still recommend it. It's a fast, fun little read. And it has recipes. That's right: r-e-c-i-p-e-s, people!
And you've got to confess - doesn't some MoonPie ice cream, or a MoonPie Brownie sound pretty darn tasty???
So where did the trouble come in?
With the cravings.
Oh, the cravings.
My waking thoughts were filled with visions of MoonPie.
Now, this should not have been an issue. According to the book, MoonPie has distribution deals with both Publix and Target. That may very well be the case, but as it turns out they aren't in *my* Publix or Target...
This led to a Sunday afternoon trek to a Cracker Barrel. The less said about that, the better. Let's just say that even though I had not previously given a lot of thought to what hell would be like, my new personal vision has it looking a lot like a Cracker Barrel on a Sunday afternoon. Make that exactly like a Cracker Barrel on a Sunday afternoon.
Anyhow - traumatic experience aside, I got a box of gorgeous lovely MoonPies.
And one nice thing about the Cracker Barrel? They've got them packaged in a really cute retro-style box.
But once I had my hard-won box of goodies - I found myself hesitating. Perhaps the actual MoonPie wouldn't live up to my expectations? Should the foodstuffs of our childhood memories should stay in our memories?
I decided to dig in.
Sweet (Chocolate-Covered-Marshmallow-and-Graham) Cracker Sandwich.
It was fabulous.
I loved it.
The marriage of graham/marshmallow/chocolate was spot-on perfection.
Every bite better than the one that preceded it.
It was like eating happiness out of a crinkly cellophane wrapper.
And that's where the trouble comes in.
I seem to be unable to stop eating them.
And my box is getting scarily low*.
I need to get over this addiction, and quickly.
Or else, I'm going to have to revisit Cracker Barrel.
*Which is doubly scary - because I'm the only one in the house who will eat them.
In fact, Schecky has none-too-quietly pronounced them "gross".
(Whose kid is that, anyway??? Seriously. This is the kid who honestly believes that our family motto is "If It's Fried, It Must Be Tried"...
He eats everything!)