Kentucky's annual budget looks to cut 1/3 of funding to libraries, which would force some to close.

"Kentucky is a cultural bastion of intellectual pursuits," said no one ever.

Which explains why Kentucky legislators have proposed cutting state funding to libraries from $7.8 million to $5.3 million, with additional language written into the bill that funding only go toward construction costs--mainly to support government bonds already committed to.

As the Lexington Herald Leader notes, many poor, rural communities that rely heavily on state aid to maintain a library might need to close.

"For the Hickman County library, state aid makes up 57 percent of the budget. For Knott County's library, it's 23 percent. For Livington County's library, it's 22 percent."

Republican lawmakers believe libraries have been receiving too much support while sitting on reserves of cash, as if librarians are Scrooge McDuck diving into a sea of gold coins.

"Some of them are sitting on quite a bit of cash, and I’ve been contacted from a lot of fiscal courts and county judge-executives saying our libraries keep raising taxes and we can’t do anything about it," said House Budget chairman Steve Rudy (R), Paducah.

Yes--those pesky libraries that somehow have the authority to just raise taxes randomly. Happens all the time.

A close approximation of what Kentucky lawmakers think librarians are doing

Some counties are cripplingly poor. As the Herald Leader notes, 22% of Powell County's 12,442 residents live in poverty. They only receive $13,000 in library aid from the state, which covers the cost of electricity, internet services, and programming for adults. Not salaries, not for new books. Just basic functioning of the building.

"In our area, quite a lot of the community doesn't have access to the Internet," one librarian told the newspaper. "You can come to us or you can go to the McDonald's or the Dairy Queen. But the difference is, we don't make you order anything to use the Internet. And not everyone has five bucks to spend around here just to go online."

That's right. The Dairy Queen in town in where all poor children should go to learn after school. Where else can they get internet access AND learn about the culinary delights that is soft serve?

Randomness Corner: Did you steal three tons of chickpeas recently?

Thieves are on the run with three tons of chickpeas, it what can only be defined as the Great Hummus Theft of 2020.

A small, two-location Middle Eastern chain restaurant in Washington, DC, called Little Sesame is in a lot of trouble, as a recent UPS delivery of 6,150 pounds of chickpeas has gone missing, according to the Washington City Paper.

Little Sesame purchases the chickpeas from a grower in Montana, who typically sends quarterly shipments year-round of three pallets, or one ton each, per pallet.

Tracking records from UPS show the purloined 'peas at a distribution warehouse in Landover, MD, on February 10th. The delivery was supposedly made in an alley out behind one of the two restaurant locations two weeks later on February 24th, in what is apparently the slowest and most casual Big Brown drop-off ever.

Little Sesame's co-owner, Nick Wiseman, tells the Washington City Paper that they're working with other farmers for an emergency shipment of chickpeas before they run out. He notes that three tons of chickpeas roughly equals the weight of an African elephant. That's not necessarily the visual you had mingling with thoughts of hummus, but let it simmer.

In the meantime, clearly someone needs to keep an eye out on a ton of shipped tahini, too. If you happen to see a galore of garbanzos in your local neighborhood, you're urged to contact police.

The Richard Nixon Presidential Library is offering free cherry pie. Because...hey, it's pie?

Being president of the United States doesn't necessarily mean the person holding the office has a discerning palate.

Ronald Reagan cherished jelly beans, while Bill Clinton never met a cheeseburger on the campaign trail he could pass up. Dwight Eisenhower loved his wife's homemade fudge, John F. Kennedy adored New England clam chowder, and Woodrow Wilson enjoyed a good chicken salad.

Today being President's Day, this leads to curious deals and promotions, including the Richard Nixon Presidential Library and Museum offering half-priced admission. And for the first 1,000 visitors, they'll also receive a free piece of cherry pie.

Why cherry pie? Why pie at all? One wonders. You might think the library would choose apple pie (you know, the whole "American as..."), or you might draw a logical conclusion that Nixon must have been obsessed with cherry pie. Except the library doesn't say.

Indeed, as noted on Business Insider, Nixon's favorite go-to food was something far more curious--so curious as to border on the bizarre. Apparently Nixon loved cottage cheese and ketchup. Together. Often as breakfast.

Ketchup. On. Cottage. Cheese.

Try to get that gelatinous culinary horror erased from your mind right now. You can't. That's a visual no one wants to have. And yet here we were thinking Nixon's worst behavior was about Watergate all along.

Former Drexel engineering professor accused of misusing $185,000 worth of grant money on strippers, sports bars, and iTunes

The romantic in me likes to imagine these were some swinging engineering classes, but I digress.

The former chairman of Drexel University's engineering department was charged last week by the Philadelphia District Attorney's Office for allegedly stealing $185,000 worth of grant money.

Professor Chikaodinaka Nwankpa is accused of spending the money on strip clubs, sports bars, and iTunes. The District Attorney's office charged Nwankpa with theft by unlawful taking* and theft by deception, each of which is a felony.

His alleged crimes occurred between 2010 and 2017 and seemed suspicious when an audit showed a number of "no receipt" purchases. When confronted, Nwankpa allegedly passed off his strip club visits as catering and food expenses, although many of the purchases occurred between midnight and 2am. But who doesn't get the late night munchies sometimes, amiright?

Of the $185,000, Nwankpa allegedly used $96,000 on "adult entertainment" and sports bars, while $89,000 was spent on iTunes, various meals, and other additional purchases. So, with that iTunes catalog, he has a future side-hustle as a wedding DJ.

Drexel placed Nwankpa on administrative leave pending the investigation, but he later resigned. A preliminary hearing is scheduled for January 29th.



*Isn't "theft by unlawful taking" sort of redundant? Theft is literally taking something unlawfully--no? Can you commit theft by taking stuff lawfully? Just sit there and grab something and promise you might bring it back? Why haven't we been told this before??

Not to be outdone by Mark Twain, E.B. White's old house is for sale as well.

If you're looking to buy a famous writers New England farmhouse, but Mark Twain's humble $1.85 million Connecticut abode doesn't do it for you, drive deeper into the northern reaches of New England and there you can take a gander at E.B. White's $3.7 million property now up for sale in rural, coastal Maine.

Like Twain, E.B. White's former shack is a sprawling farmhouse--although White's has a literary connection beyond the author himself. The property includes the barn that inspired White to write Charlotte's Web.

Located in North Brooklin--or roughly a five hour drive northeast of Boston--the 44 1/2 acre saltwater farm sits beside the Atlantic with 2,000 feet of shore frontage. Included is a boathouse, a pond, meticulous gardens, and the aforementioned barn, which includes the rope swing mentioned in the book.

Never to let an animal-inspired moment pass unnoticed, PETA has reached out to the real estate agent in charge via a press release, asking that "the owners convert the home into an empathy museum for pigs, complete with a vegan café offering veggie sausages, vegan BLTs, and more."

Wait--PETA isn't done yet with ideas. The organization continues:

"E.B. White's portrayal of a pig named Wilbur inspired people all over the world to take a closer look at the animals they consider to be 'food' and go vegan," PETA President Ingrid Newkirk wrote. "A PETA museum in his historic farmhouse would help visitors see that every pig is some pig, an intelligent individual and not a collection of sausages, bacon, and chops."

Okay, well, we know that isn't happening. Forget the vegan angle. PETA must be anticipating literally tens of people to drive five hours from civilization to have a veggie BLT.




photo: Mark Fleming / Yankee Magazine

Admittedly, how often are you making Bundt cakes?

It's time to sit down, be honest, and ask yourself: How often am I making Bundt cakes in my everyday life?

Probably not enough, which explains some of the general disappointment people feel around you. Now you can improve everyone's mood by borrowing baking pans of all sorts from the library of all places. Specifically, the Carnegie-Stout Public Library in Dubuque, Iowa.

Sure, Dubuque is a bit of a haul for most Americans to visit to borrow a pan, but it's worth it in the end once you realize Bundt cakes en masse are about to come out of your kitchen.

Carnegie-Stout Library Director Susan Henricks tells local TV station KCRG it's all about reaching out to locals. "We're trying to meet people where they're at. Getting them to come in and see what we are like," Hendricks said.

What they're like is deliciousness. Library Bundt cake deliciousness.



If you're wondering why I keep capitalizing the word "Bundt," it's because the word was trademarked by Nordic Ware in the 1950s. "Bundt" is just an Americanization of "bund," which etymologists aren't even sure is authentically German with regard to food, since "bund" largely refers to a federation or alliance. An alliance of deliciousness on our taste buds, perhaps.

Randomness Corner: Europe is running out of butter, panic to ensue.

Soon to be a mythical thing to tell your grandchildren about.

Grandmothers in the remote, bucolic countrysides and elitist chefs at fine dining establishments across Europe are sharing a similar panic this week.

A report from the Federation des Entrepreneurs de la Boulangerie (that's French for bakery somethingoranother) says global demand for butter has skyrocketed, while supply in Europe has dipped, creating a butter shortage crisis.

"Butter shortages appear to be a real threat by the end of the year," said the Baking Homeboys, noting that brioche buns, tarts, and croissants might see prices drastically increased. That's right. That sound you just heard was a grown Parisian man crying in the streets. The daily habit of smoking filterless cigarettes and having a croissant at the corner cafe will cease to exist possibly. The French economy will single-handedly be more crippled than during World War II.

Remember the good ol' days when butter was in abundance and on crystal trays.

The European Commission's Milk Observatory (a real thing, I promise) claims that butter stockpiles in Europe have dropped 98% in the past year, all while Europeans have increased their annual intake of butter by a half-pound in the past half-decade. Saturated fat in stick form has never been as alluring.

Meanwhile, Peder Tuborgh, the CEO of U.K dairy megapower Arla, recently told the BBC that there might not be enough milk and cream come Christmas.

First the French are taken out on croissants, and now the Brits won't have custards and puddings come Christmas. Thank God the Germans are alcoholics and only focus on beer. If they had a butter and milk fetish like the rest of Europe, the entire European continent might crumble soon.

Humans have decorated eggs for thousands of years. Just...because.

It's not just your average patron at Denny's or chicken farmers who love a good egg, as humanity has always been fascinated with them. Therefore, since it's Easter, we might as well dive into why Easter eggs exist, and why there's a bunny going around with them in a basket.


Easter Eggs:

For some unfathomable reason, humans have always taken to decorating eggs. Long before Christianity, Islam, or Judaism existed, evidence shows humans decorated ostrich eggs 60,000 years ago in parts of Africa. The Sumerians and Egyptians maintained the tradition thousands of years before Moses or Jesus arrived on the scene, and those civilizations often placed decorated eggs in graves, too.

(((shrugs))) People have been buried with weirder things.

Let's assume the Sumerians' eggs looked slightly different.

It's largely a portrayal and symbolism of vitality and birth that captivated people. This fascination with eggs continued with Christianity after the death of Jesus, as followers began dyeing eggs red as a representation of Christ's blood at his crucifixion and sacrifice for all to have eternal life.

Bloody eggs commemorating murder? Gather 'round the kids! I know I'll never look at one of those PAAS Easter egg kits the same way again.

All the allure of a crucifixion!

Likewise, for centuries eggs were banned to be eaten during the forty days of Lent leading up Easter, part of a slew of foods and drink to instill a fast. Since chickens are uncooperative rebels and still have eggs nonstop, there was always a surplus of eggs to consume by the time Easter arrived, where feasts on hoarded eggs occurred so food didn't spoil.

The Western Christian denominations rescinded the ban long ago, so your Sunday morning omelette is still safe. Eastern Orthodox churches still maintain the ban, though. This might explain why you can find a Denny's in Japan, Qatar, and the United Arab Emirates, but nowhere Eastern Orthodox churches are popular.

Not popular around the Eastern Orthodox folks.

Many have tried to symbolize the egg in a Christian vein (despite egg popularity pre-dating Christianity by 58,000 years), suggesting the egg represents the tomb Christ's body was placed in, or, again, the potential for rebirth and eternal life. Alas, Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John in the Bible never jotted that egg nugget down, so take it with a grain of salt.


Easter Bunny:

Short and simple, it was the Germans who popularized the Easter Bunny myth. Since none of this egg history really makes sense, let's invite the Germans to this international party to confuse it more.

Germany has always had a distinguished history with folktales, and the appearance of rabbits or hares in those tales frequently occurred. Stories about the animals were passed down through generations, often with allusions to their--(((ahem)))--procreation abilities.

As with all things related to spring, rabbits' sexual proclivities symbolized rebirth in Northern Christian churches, so much so that the "three hares" symbol became popular as a design accent on medieval churches. With Easter occurring only in the springtime, the combination of rabbits to the holiday was a simple addition for German folklorists.

None of this creepy old greeting card should make a lick of sense to you.

Tales of the Easter Bunny were passed down through the oral tradition before German physician and botanist Georg Franck von Franckenau wrote about the tale of a hare in his 1682 work De ovis paschalibus, which was the first written mention of the Easter Bunny.

German Lutherans popularized the Easter Bunny myth as a teaching tool to children, suggesting the rabbit would come on Easter to judge children on whether they deserved to be given the ever-coveted eggs. Yes, it's just like you always thought. The Easter Bunny really is just a springtime version of Santa Claus.

It's good to be number one.

The Pennsylvania Dutch Protestants and emigrating Germans to America brought this fable of the Easter Bunny with them, calling it "Osterhase" or "Easter Hare," and American commercialization and affinity for soft, fluffy looking animals took right on over from there.


Conclusion:

None of this explains or defends the cheap plastic grass in those Easter baskets or these guys:

Someone in Ohio really likes books and A1 steak sauce.

Everyone appreciates sauces. Béarnaise, Béchamel, Worcestershire, soy, Sriracha--a thousand others--we all get lathered up over a favorite sauce.

Which might explain why the Avon Lake Public Library in Avon Lake, Ohio, has found over thirty empty bottles of A1 steak sauce hidden behind the book stacks on shelves since January 1st. Why?

[[[shrug]]]

But someone out there believes A1 and Hemingway are on the same level.

"There’s no label, and the labels have been peeled, but you can tell there had been a label on. They’re dishwasher clean, dry inside and out, just a hint of A.1. still lingering in the bottle," said the library's Jill Ralston to Cleveland television station WOIO.

So someone is huffing the A1 bottles?

Anyway, according to Ralston, sometimes the library staff members find three or four hidden bottles a day. She worries it's some game and the library doesn't know the rules.

"Are we messing up the game by finding them and removing them from the shelf? I have no idea," said Ralston.

If so, this is the trippiest game of hide-and-seek anyone has ever played.

Harry Potter-themed restaurant is themed if Harry Potter was jonesing for some casual Italian.

MAGICAL PREP TIME!!

Pasta Wiz is decorated like a modern interpretation of an 18th-century German beer hall with good housekeeping  Hogwarts, the school Harry Potter learned the ins-and-outs of how to save the world from snub-nosed evil wizards.

While promoting the Harry Potter angle, the restaurant's website tones down the enthusiasm, lest you think they really went all out on channeling Potter-inspired food:


"While the interior of the Pasta Wiz flagship resembles a wizard's enchanted lair, the real magic shines through in the prep time of their dishes: approximately 3 minutes."


Real magic! The true Hogwarts never understood fantastic customer service when it came to a quality bolognese.

Get on it, Hagrid! Stop being a deadbeat!

Randomness Corner: Grilled cheese has killed lesser people.

Baltimore's Daniel Brian Blackwell is very protective of his grilled cheese.

According to Baltimore Police, It seems the other day Blackwell's wife made him a grilled cheese and took a bite out of the sandwich. Admittedly, a quality grilled cheese sandwich can be irresistible--and Blackwell's wife fell under the powerful allure of said sandwich.

However, Blackwell wasn't thrilled with his wife's predilection for exquisitely melted cheese products. While his wife continued cooking upstairs in the kitchen, Blackwell allegedly fired off a gun while in a rage in the basement.

His wife went downstairs to check on him and alleges she saw him surrounded by his stash of revolvers, rifles, and shotguns.

Seeing that her husband needed some alone time, she went back upstairs to cooking. Within minutes, Blackwell allegedly fired three more rounds into the basement ceiling, nearly taking out his wife in the kitchen above him.

His wife immediately fled the house with their teenage children and called the police. Blackwell barricaded himself in the house for a few hours before eventually surrendering to police.

The moral of this story?

Nobody becomes this upset over tuna salad.

Know Your Obscure Halloween Candy: Clark Bar

With Halloween coming soon, that means only one thing really: candy.

Anyone who trick-or-treated as a child knows that there's always one or two houses that dish out some obscure candy. So, between now and October 31st, we'll take quick looks at obscure candies (and some popular ones as well), just so you know what exactly you're getting yourself into.


Today:  Clark Bar


What it's made of:  Chocolate, peanut butter, and an inferiority complex to a Butterfinger.


Who owns it:  New England Confectionery Company (Necco)


Background:  The Clark Bar (created in 1917) predates the Butterfinger by six years (1923), yet it has a fraction of the popularity. Clearly it's a testament to what multinational corporations like Nabisco and Nestlé can do with regard to marketing--and the fact that both Bart Simpson and Erik Estrada have been Butterfinger spokesmen. No one can deny the allure of Ponch.

Try not eating a Butterfinger now.

An Irish immigrant named David L. Clark moved to Pittsburgh, PA, in 1872 as an 8-year old, and as an adult he created a small, regional candy company, mainly focusing on gum products. When Clark was 53-years old, he focused more on chocolate, and came up with a peanut butter and chocolate concoction. Seemingly lacking any imagination, Clark named the bar--well, uhh--after himself.

The candy became mildly popular in the northeastern United States for decades, but, admittedly always lacked the scorching hot sex appeal of Erik Estrada.

Today, promotion of the Clark Bar is a bit touchy. As the Necco website says, "Clark isn't the average candy you share with your grandmother. Made with REAL chocolate and REAL peanut butter, Clark Bar is a powerful, great-tasting treat that not just anyone can handle."

Sounds like someone is overcompensating.


What it tastes like:  A Butterfinger with deep-seeded emotional issues.


Halloween Trick-or-Treat Grade:  B

It's the candy for people looking to save a buck or two at Halloween. Butterfingers are overpriced, but someone's got to pay Ponch.

What was up with C.S. Lewis loving Turkish Delight so much?

Turkish Delight is a confection of starch and sugar, coated in powdered sugar, and flavored with rosewater, lemon, Bergamot, pistachios, or any other variety of options.

And it is very, very difficult to make. Your lack of culinary skill suggests you can't pull it off, my friend.

C.S. Lewis, the author most famous for the Chronicles of Narnia series, was obsessed with Turkish Delight--to the extent he ate it habitually and often mentioned it in his books routinely. Even the character of Edmund in Narnia asks for Turkish Delight from a witch. For a relatively obscure candy (to western audiences), Lewis seemed quite smitten to it. But why?

The Daily Jstor dove into the matter and posits a theory with a systematic analysis.

Turkish Delight was created in the 1700s, and popularized in the 1800s. English tourists to Turkey came across it and fell in love. The problem is that the candy was--and is--very difficult to make and has never been successfully recreated en masse in Europe, even now in our modern age. It involves painstaking patience and an avoidance of sugar crystallization, which apparently Europeans and the western hemisphere are incapable of accomplishing to any great degree. Yet, Europeans loved the treat whenever it could be imported from Turkey.

Try as you might, you probably can't make this.

Lewis began making notes on Narnia in 1939, just as World War II caused England to start rationing food. Lewis was also enamored with the nation of Turkey. For example, the hero character of Narnia, Aslan, is named after the archaic Turkish word for lion. (Pssh. Like, who doesn't know ancient Turkish words?)

In 1942, as the war raged on, confections were added to the list of rationed food. One had to use ration coupons, along with money, and register at the shop selling candy to purchase sweets--and then wait in massively long lines, just to add insult to injury. Turkish Delight became the rarest of rarities. Indeed, it wasn't until 1953 that confections were finally removed from the ration list, eight years after World War II ended.

Even Christmas trees were rationed during the war. Considering Narnia is heavily influenced by the holiday, or lack thereof, Lewis seemed to be hinting at a desire for normalcy in a time of the chaos of war. Turkish Delight was a holiday treat at a time when war dictated there could be no normalcy and surely no treats.

Lewis possibly loved Turkish Delight not just because it was a sweet treat or an exotic snack from the edge of Asia. Lewis potentially just wanted the normalcy of life, of holidays, of England to come back from the depths of death, of hell, of war.

And he found that normalcy in a candy.

Fashionable Words: Cahoots

[Sometimes words die out of fashion. But sometimes those words are good words, words with a certain appeal that can't be denied forever. Those words should be brought back into fashion, used frequently and used often. These are those words.]


Word:

Cahoots


Definition:  verb / noun

1.)  go cahoots:  To share equally; become partners

2.)  in cahoots:  In partnership; in conspiracy with one another


Origin:

America likes to take delightful European things and bastardize them somehow, like Wonder Bread and microwaveable cheese product. This is why America can't have nice things.

Le sigh.

In the case of cahoots, the word first appeared in 1829. While the exact origin is unknown, the word was born as an Americanism of one of two similar--although much more debonair--French words cahute or cohorte.

Cahute is a 12th century French word that means a cabin or hut. (Think: Two people sharing a hut, possibly eating French bread and some aged Roquefort. And wine. Always wine.)

America is still trying to figure out how to bastardize Roquefort.

Some believe cahoots evolved from cohorte, the French word that also created the English cohort, meaning "companions." Except the modern English cohort has shady undertones in nefarious behavior. Indeed, you might be in cahoots with your cohort.

In turn, the French cohorte evolved from Latin. A cohort was one of ten divisions of a legion in the Roman army, usually made of 300 to 600 men. You definitely could not fit that many men in a cahute.

What I'm really trying to say is that Americans made up a word and no one has an idea how it came about--but let's assume it's fancy and French.

'Mericuh!


Most obscure UrbanDictionary.com definition of 'cahoots':

6.)  The sound an owl makes when it sneezes.

I beg to differ with the upstanding people at UrbanDictionary. Here's video of an owl who clearly needs some Allergra.



Not going to lie--I'm a little disappointed an owl sneeze sounds so dainty.


Used in a sentence:

"Sven and his cohort, Bjorn, were in cahoots to eat all the Cheez Whiz while the other campers slept in the cahute."


Why you should use 'cahoots' in your everyday life:

It's the illegitimate lovechild of a Parisian brasserie and an American dumpster fire.


Word Awesomeness Scale (1-to-5):

Four.

It loses a point for being the name of a British boy band.

Know Your Obscure Halloween Candy: SweeTarts

With Halloween coming soon, that means only one thing really: candy.

Anyone who trick-or-treated as a child knows that there's always one or two houses that dish out some obscure candy. So, between now and October 31st, we'll take quick looks at obscure candies (and some popular ones as well), just so you know what exactly you're getting yourself into.


Today:  SweeTarts


What it's made of:  dextrose, maltodextrin, malic acid, calcium stearate, natural flavors, a whole lot of artificial coloring, and the approval of moms everywhere.


Who owns it:  Nestlé, under the Willy Wonka Candy Company banner.


Background: The world can change on a dime when soccer moms become irked. This explains how SweeTarts were born.

In the 1940s, a company in that candy capital of Salt Lake City created Lik-M-Aid, which was originally supposed to be a powdered drink mix. (Think: Kool-Aid--except Kool-Aid was actually created 15 years before Lik-M-Aid.) The creator, J. Fish Smith, realized children just wanted to eat the powdery mixture instead of making drinks with it (so classy!), so Smith marketed his creation as a new candy instead.

The candy for classy kids.

Fast forward to the 1950s, and an affiliated company of Smith's wanted to market Lik-M-Aid nationally in a new style. Lik-M-Aid was placed in a straw--and Pixy Stix were born as a result. Lik-M-Aid didn't disappear, though. The same sugary concoction was branded as Fun Dip, putting two flavors into individual packets and offering a lickable stick to dip into the packets.

Lik-M-Aid after a makeover. So sleek and sexy!

In a surprise to no one, small children aren't the most adept at managing granular products without making a mess. By the 1960s, soccer moms became fed up at cleaning up after their children's addiction to crank  coke  sugar, and they complained en masse to the manufacturer. Mothers wanted the same flavored product in a less messy form. And that, my friend, is why SweeTarts were created. They are Pixy Stix in a solidified tablet form.

Ticked off moms can change the world. Now if only they'd focus on international diplomacy.


What it tastes like:  The stone cold grandchild of a fruit drink.


Halloween Trick-or-Treat Grade:  B+

Whereas you can look like a hobo on a bender after you down a half dozen Pixy Stix, you lose that debonair look with a SweeTart.

Know Your Obscure Halloween Candy: Skittles

With Halloween coming soon, that means only one thing really: candy.

Anyone who trick-or-treated as a child knows that there's always one or two houses that dish out some obscure candy. So, as we did last year, between now and October 31st, we'll take quick looks at obscure candies (and some popular ones as well), just so you know what exactly you're getting yourself into.


Today:  Skittles


What it's made of:  Generally sugar, corn syrup, hydrogenated palm kernel oil, and a blood sugar pick-me-up all in a 2.17oz bag.


Who owns it:  Wrigley Company, as a division of Mars, Inc.


Background:  Like all things flamboyantly colored, Skittles were born in the trippy haze of the 1970s. LSD is a hell of a drug, I guess.

A British company began creating the sugary, chewy hard candies that quickly gained popularity in its homeland before making its way to American shores in 1979. The wave of fame continued, to the point that Skittles were produced in America by 1982. Americans have been picking out Skittles chunks from their back teeth ever since.

Who could resist the Skittles appeal in the 1980s with commercials like this, channeling all that is fabulous about the synergy between Nu Jazz and candy:





The "taste the rainbow" tag line was created by advertisement company D'Arcy Masius Benton & Bowles. Normally you shouldn't be impressed, but the same company created the tag lines:

"This Bud's for you," for Budweiser

"Melts in your mouth, not in your hands," for M&Ms

And they created the original Santa Claus image that became synonymous with Coca-Cola. In essence, they've created every annoying advertising image or jingle you've ever encountered in life that you wanted to go away.


What it tastes like:  Roy G. Biv


Halloween Trick-or-Treat Grade:  A++

Skittles are the saucy and debonair cousin of the M&M.

Know Your Obscure Halloween Candy: Junior Mints

With Halloween coming soon, that means only one thing really: candy.

Anyone who trick-or-treated as a child knows that there's always one or two houses that dish out some obscure candy. So, as we did last year, between now and October 31st, we'll take quick looks at obscure candies (and some popular ones as well), just so you know what exactly you're getting yourself into.


Today:  Junior Mints


What it's made of:  sugar, semi-sweet chocolate, corn syrup, confectioner's glaze, modified food starch, peppermint oil, invertase (an enzyme), and more pop culture references than it deserves.


Who owns it:  Tootsie Roll Industries


Background:  Created in 1949 by the now-defunct James O. Welch company in Cambridge, MA, the candy was following in the popular tradition of dark chocolate/mint combination candies, like the York Peppermint Pattie, only smaller.

When deciding upon a name, Welch chose to name his new candy after his favorite Broadway play, a 1941-1943 hit called Junior Miss--because go vague with your candy references, y'know?--which was later made into a movie and a radio series. IMDB gives the movie a 7.2 out of 10, so it's better than any Adam Sandler movie from the past decade.

Junior Mints have often been referred to in pop culture, maybe most famously for an episode of Seinfeld, appropriately named "The Junior Mint," where, while observing a surgery, Kramer accidentally lobs one of the candies into the patient.

Much like observing surgeries, today Junior Mints are staples of movie theaters, mainly purchased by parents who don't feel like losing a tooth on their kid's Twizzler.


What it tastes like:  A York Peppermint Pattie with low expectations.


Halloween Trick-or-Treat Grade:  B+

It's great for that nebbish bookworm of a kid who wants nothing to do with your Starbursts or Milky Ways.

Know Your Obscure Halloween Candy: Necco Wafers

With Halloween coming soon, that means only one thing really: candy.

Anyone who trick-or-treated as a child knows that there's always one or two houses that dish out some obscure candy. So, as we did last year, between now and October 31st, we'll take quick looks at obscure candies (and some popular ones as well), just so you know what exactly you're getting yourself into.


Today:  Necco Wafers


What they're made of:  Fairly straight forward: sugar, corn syrup, gelatin, gums, colorings, flavorings, and a desperate need for a glass of water.


Who owns it:  New England Confectionery Company (Necco)


Background:  It all starts with a lozenge-cutting machine, and who doesn't feel a thrill of excitement with lozenges?

In 1847, an English immigrant named Oliver Chase created said lozenge-cutting machine and created the wafers to be used in his invention. The confectionery was so popular, fifteen years later many Union soldiers carried them during the Civil War. Was that the secret to defeating the Confederacy? Clearly.

Chase's candy company eventually merged with two other local confectioneries at the turn of the century to create the New England Confectionery Company, and by 1912 the candy was officially branded as Necco Wafers. Fast forward thirty years, and the United States government ordered Necco to produce the wafers for the troops fighting in World War Two. Because nothing was a great pick-me-up to defeat the Nazis quite like a mouthful of chalk.

In 2009, the company changed the recipe slightly and made the candy with only all natural flavors and colorings. The backlash from the public over the change was so damaging--a 35% drop in sales, and reams of complaint letters--that by 2011 the company went back to artificial colors and flavors.

Artificial over natural. If that doesn't explain America in a nutshell, nothing will.


What it tastes like:  A bottle of Tums, except with lower expectations.


Halloween Trick-or-Treat Grade:  C-

Any kid who receives Necco Wafers on Halloween knows grandma and grandpa have some candy coming their way.

The Friday Poem: Apple Sauce and Chicken Fried, by Effie Waller Smith

As another week concludes, we end with a random poem. Famous poets, obscure poets, amateur poets, whatever poets--just a poem to cap off the week.

Like this one:


Apple Sauce and Chicken Fried, by Effie Waller Smith

You may talk about the knowledge
Which our farmers' girls have gained
From cooking-schools and cook-books,
(Where all modern cooks are trained):
But I would rather know just how,
(Though vainly I have tried)
To prepare, as mother used to,
Apple sauce and chicken fried.

Our modern cooks know how to fix
Their dainty dishes rare,
But, friend, just let me tell you what!-
None of them can compare
With what my mother used to fix,
And for which I've often cried,
When I was but a little tot,-
Apple sauce and chicken fried.

Chicken a la Française,
And also fricassee,
Served with some new fangled sauce
Is plenty good for me,
Till I get to thinking of the home
Where once I used to 'bide,
And where I used to eat,- um, my!
Apple sauce and chicken fried.

We always had it once a week,
Sometimes we had it twice;
And I have even known the time
When we have had it thrice.
Our good, yet jolly pastor,
During his circuit's ride
With us once each week gave grateful thanks
For apple sauce and chicken fried.

Why, it seems like I can smell it,
And even taste it, too,
And see it with my natural eyes,
Though of course it can't be true;
And it seems like I'm a child again,
Standing by mother's side,
Pulling at her dress and asking
For apple sauce and chicken fried.

Know Your Obscure Halloween Candy: Take 5

With Halloween coming soon, that means only one thing really: candy.

Anyone who trick-or-treated as a child knows that there's always one or two houses that dish out some obscure candy. So, as we did last year, between now and October 31st, we'll take quick looks at obscure candies (and some popular ones as well), just so you know what exactly you're getting yourself into.

Today:  Take 5

What it's made of: The entire contents of the kitchen cabinet of my inner 14-year old: pretzels, caramel, peanuts, peanut butter, and chocolate.


Who owns it: The Hershey Company


Background:  A relative baby on the candy front, Hershey's first released the candy in December of 2004. The name refers to the five main ingredients in the product, while it implies to take a five minute break to eat it. This is a disappointment to the three remaining jazz aficionados in the world who thought it was a shoutout to Dave Brubeck's famous "Take Five":





Sorry, Dave.

Hershey's never invested much marketing into the bar, and by 2011 it ceased all promotion for the candy, although the company still manufactured it. Things didn't bode so well for the Canadian equivalent, Max 5 (a name that implied absolutely nothing), which Hershey's discontinued making.

Advertising in the early 2000s, like the following, might explain why no one wanted to eat it:




No, absolutely none of that was supposed to make sense, so you're okay.

That said, through no reasoning whatsoever, sales increased once marketing stopped--increases to the tune of 10% per year over the past few years. Hershey's suddenly decided to redouble its marketing efforts, and in early 2016 started to re-brand the candy bar. The packaging, which used to be a combination of red, white, yellow, and desperation, was changed to a wrapper showcasing the ingredients, a black background, and a bold hyperactive lime green logo.

Marketing heavily focused on Millennials. Take 5 brand manager Chris Kinnard said in a statement. "They’re flavor explorers and adventurous when it comes to food."

Yes--those "flavor explorers." The Marco Polos of the modern food age.

Take 5 is the little runt that marketers swear can be THE GREATEST CANDY BAR IN THE WORLD. Christopher Steiner wrote in a 2013 Forbes article that the Take 5 candy bar was possibly the most undervalued brand in the world. "We’re convinced that, with the right shepherding, the Take 5 could propel Hershey to become utterly dominant in its industry in the way that Apple has taken a demonstrative lead in consumer devices," Steiner wrote.

Suck it, Snickers!

But wait! There's more!

"Many organizations fail to effectively put themselves in the minds of their customers and it would seem Hershey has drastically undervalued the reality that Take 5 bars are delicious, nutritious, sumptuous and scrumptious," said Aaron Perlut, founding partner of digital marketing and PR firm Elasticity.

Nutritious! Sumptuous! Has a candy bar ever qualified as either? Never!

But this is why God created marketers.


What it tastes like:  A sumptuous journey bathed in the tears of Millennials.


Halloween Trick-or-Treat Grade:  A+

In thirty years it'll be the candy your grandchildren are addicted to.