i’ve been getting cosmic signs to buy pop-tarts. this is exceptionally strange for me because i have a dark past with this on-the-go breakfast pastry. i, like many others, have endured a scarring pop-tart experience.
i lived in the sig delt house for two years during college. after eating hundreds of meals in the basement kitchen there are only 2 things about the food that really stick out in my mind (besides s’mores in the microwave - deeelicious). there was an overwhelming, unending supply of dill. and pop-tarts. not usually served together.
our chef put dill in everything - and i mean, everything. before moving in to ‘the house,’ i was ambivalent about this herb. i probably wouldn’t cook with it, myself, but i wouldn’t stray away from eating a dill-icious dish (hehe - i couldn’t resist). i got the impression that the majority of my sorority sisters felt the same way. it was almost as if our chef could read our thoughts and his response was, “you don’t have strong feelings about dill?! how could that be?! i’ll fix this.... [evil laugh while sprinkling more dill into the quesadillas...]” he started putting this pungent weed in everything he cooked. there wasn’t a dill-free meal to be found. chicken, pasta, scrambled eggs, chocolate cake. you name it, dill was present. it got to the point where the smell of a dill seasoned dish would send girls disappearing down the fire escape faster than the chef could say “dill-infused mac and cheese! come aaaaand get it”
our house manager eventually had to uncomfortably explain why the number of people attending meals was dropping. the food got better, but i haven’t been able to eat anything with dill since.
this same house manager, who angelically saved the sorority from a lethal overdose of dill weed, was the person responsible for the semester i like to refer to as ‘the time of the tarts’.
when pop-tarts started showing up in the snack area of our kitchen, i was excited. i liked pop-tarts. i grew up on them. they were one of those exciting treats that mom picked up at the store only sporadically and was always a welcomed variety from cinnamon toast crunch. but shortly after the first appearance of said pop-tarts, something strange began to happen. the foil inclosed delights began to multiply! it was almost as if they were reproducing. overtaking the granola bars, pretzels, and assorted cereals along the way. i’d go to bed after a long night of studying (read; gossiping) in the kitchen, and when i came down early the next morning the tarts seemed to have doubled in number. it was overwhelming.
at first, i thought this was a temporary problem - oops, we over ordered this week! but as the weeks and months went on, more and more pop-tarts appeared. it started effecting my nutritional intake. i suppose i could have gone out and bought a variety of food on my own - but, this was already in the house and paid for. i was a poor college student. why would i spend money on food when i could spend it on bud light? duh.
i ate pop-tart after pop-tart until i could eat pop-tarts no more. i ate more pop-tarts than any human should healthily intake. and then i at more. now, don’t get me wrong. this was not a terribly gluttonous example of overeating. it wasn’t like i was eating this tremendous amount of pop-tarts all in one day. it occurred over a period of time. the disturbing part was considering the ratio of pop-tarts consumed, in relation to the total amount of food eaten. something like 30% of my diet consisted of pop-tarts. (hey, don’t judge too harshly. some people do ramen noodles, i did tarts.)
well, needless to say i was overdoing it. it got to the point where the mere scent of pop-tarts made me feel queasy. so i quit. cold turkey. i never ate a sugar filled, carb loaded toaster treat again. (except for camping with masada, but we had off-brand. and they were gross, so it doesn’t count.)
i thought that being able to enjoy the delicious crunch of a pop-tart was a luxury of the past, but recently a strange urge overcame me.
it started when the universe began giving me signs that i should give my, once beloved, tarts another chance. as all life altering events, the cosmic message presented itself in three ways. first i heard about the carnival cruise ship that was stranded in the middle of the ocean (if you've ever been on a carnival cruise, this should not surprise you). apparently they were only able to serve their guests an extremely limited selection of prepackaged foods. when the reporter said that one of these survival foods was pop-tarts. i thought to myself, ‘hmm, that might not be so bad...” next, conan obrien tweeted that his kids were begging to be taken on said cruise because of the endless amount of pop-tarts. i thought to myself, “the obrien kids might be on to something...” the third event is what really clarified the message. i started substituting glee cravings with episodes of gilmore girls (another great series with the ability to uplift and turn a frown upside-down, but that's another story for another day...) let me just say, that lorelai and rory eat a ton of tarts. pop-tarts in the morning, pop-tarts in the evening, pop-tarts at supper time. i thought to myself, "the gilmore girls really seem to have their shit together." i mean, they’re successful, smart, cute, and witty. maybe this is a result of their diet? and what was i supposed to do, ignore the cosmic signs? when the universe tells you to do something, you do it. the stars were aligned - it was time to hit the grocery store.
i couldn’t decide what flavor to get, so i - obviously - went with both s’mores and frosted strawberry. (i mean, if you’re going to do something - do it right).
i’ve been eating a few pop-tarts a week since the big purchase and things are going pretty well. it’s been deliciously successful. our once strong bond seems to have been repaired with sugar and carbohydrates. although i do not foresee a truce with dill in my near future, i’m delighted with the reconciliation that has occurred with my favorite toaster pastry. after all, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.
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