At five years old I lived in Tacoma,Washington across the street from a reservoir. The view from my front porch was the green grassy hill leading up to the chain linked fence surrounding the reservoir. All I could see was the grassy
hill. We spent evenings there playing “Mother may I” and “hide and seek”. For the life of me I cannot remember the name of the game which ended in the frequent resounding cry ” Ollie Ollie Olsen free” . Maybe it was all of them.We would play until dusk when our parents would call us in for dinner.
In the summer, when we were out of school the hill of the reservoir was our playground. Next door to the reservoir was a retirement community, and deliveries of different kinds were made daily. We knew the milkman, the laundry serviceman, and the bakery delivery man. He was our favorite by far. On Mondays with clock like regularity after he had made his delivery to the inhabitants of the retirement home, he would distribute the “day old” baked goods. The Maple bars, were the highest of prizes. Either my timing was very good or he liked me especially or both, but I inevitably ended up with a maple bar. If you are from the Northwestern part of the United States, then you may understand the passion for maple bars. The “plain” maple bar will set you back 460 calories and contain 20 grams of fat. This prize has long gone by the wayside as part of my regular diet, but I can still dream and once in a long while I indulge.
People from other parts of the world, when I have shared this memory don’t seem to quite understand. Verging on an obsession maybe one would have to be a Seahawks fan as well. The conclusion I have now drawn with almost scientific accuracy is I was one of the “lucky” children to get a “day old maple bar” on Mondays because the excitement, passion and lengths I went to to attain the “prize” was witnessed by the bakery delivery man and people appreciate being part of that kind of excitement.
Some people have carried this obsession to the extreme. Witness below the photo of the “all American Favorite” hotdog, wrapped in crispy bacon (no less) and served in a maple bar. I have never had the pleasure of eating this concoction, but the visual pleasure alone is almost indescribable. My husbands favorite dog has to be Nathan’s and the fat count there is 14.5 grams. Let’s not even discuss the bacon. So a word of caution, don’t ever not engage in your favorite comfort food, but please do so with moderation. One thing I have learned is seeing, thinking about and not eating has an anticipatory pleasure all its own. Savor the idea of having your pleasure and then plan when to do it, add each ingredient in your mind lovingly and insist that you do something good for yourself, a walk, a run, a hike or a marathon and then reward yourself with your own favorite childhood memory.