I am devastated. Bereft. Hostess. Bankruptcy. No! How could this happen? How could the single greatest desserts in the Western World be at peril? Why aren’t the presidential candidates talking about this? They all grew up eating Hostess CupCakes and Twinkies. Who cares about the friggin’ debt ceiling, which nobody understands anyway. Let’s raise the debt ceiling and give the dang money to Hostess.
A moment back in time. It is 1959 in Evanston, Illinois. Two little girls are starving. Eating canned asparagus and lumpy oatmeal with skim milk. STARVING. And we walk to Mr. Pottinger’s store. We see them on the rack and we know there is a slim possibility that starvation will be averted. Hostess CupCakes. So beautiful. So decadent. That swirl of vanilla icing tempting us. The Twinkies. So merry. So moist. So irresistible.
Oh, please, please, Mother Dear. Please buy us some CupCakes and Twinkies. Yes! We open the package of CupCakes. We cleverly peel off the icing in one piece. Chocolate fondant? Yes, of course. So sophisticated. So delicious. How can they only charge 10 cents for these incredible confections? We lick the icing out of the center and then consume the rich devil’s food cake. Ahhhhh.
The Twinkies. People who make fun of Twinkies should have their income taxes audited. The delicate cake surrounding the rich vanilla cream. So soul-satisfying. My sister and I walk home to face our broiled halibut and hominy. But our stomachs are dancing. We will remember this. We will remember this….
Fifty years later. I have just read the news that Hostess is facing bankruptcy for the second time. I walk into the Daily’s Convenience Store and buy a package each of CupCakes and Twinkies. I come home and eagerly peel off the plastic packaging and take a bite. I must admit, washed down with a little Cabernet Sauvignon. Yes, my tastes have matured. But not that much. They are still utterly delicious.