Sugar Savvy

A few weeks ago I had one of the sweetest (i.e., best) dates of my life. First, we caught a matinée showing of Ratatouille. Then we hopped on the streetcar and went downtown to a new(ish) joint called Blueplate, a soda fountain that harkens olde time days yore, with a few subtly placed modern twists. For example, my date ordered a good old fashioned egg cream, while I enjoyed an “Eastern Connection” soda, a homemade concoction of orange, ginger, lemongrass and kefir lime leaves. But what really won me over at Blueplate was their special whipped cream mixed with marshmallow cream topping (we ordered a side of it), as well as the glass-fulls of complimentary Dum Dum suckers to tide you over while waiting for your soda or sundae. So much better than a breadstick, right?

Sated, at least temporarily, we left Blueplate and jumped on the bus for my house, where he was to spend the night. Okay, so I guess this would be a good time to tell you that my date was, in fact, my nephew, Ben. And this movie/treat date was his birthday present – he just turned 5. So, despite the fact that he wasn’t picking up the tab and I had to carry his backpack, it was still my best date in recent memory. Seriously.

Interrupting our sugar spree, we took in a couple of episodes of vintage Electric Company, featuring a young Morgan Freeman as Easy Reader. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, you are probably under 31 years old. But if you do, check this out – it’s pretty awesome. We had a lovely and nutritious dinner of organic Annie’s Arthur Loops and fresh carrots, cucumbers, tomatoes and green beans. It’s all about balance, right? We love our sugar, but never in lieu of good vegetables.

And good vegetables are never had in lieu of sugar – only as a precursor to more sugar. Enter the Shrek Peanut M&M’s. I realize these are not a new item, but I had picked-up a 1 lb bag when they first came out, which had been sitting in my pantry for a couple of months (God bless preservatives!). Ben has already declared Peanut M&M’s as his favorite candy, and he also loves Shrek – so as an auntie who likes to spread the sugar love, I was pretty excited to share these with him. No, they don’t taste any different than regular Peanut M&M’s, but they sure are fun to look at (and eat, of course). Ben thought so, too. I’ve been storing the remainder of them in a clear Mason jar on a shelf, as a sort of kitchen objet d’art. They’re just that pretty. I would buy them again based on this reason, alone.

We decided to take a stroll through the neighborhood and tote the M&M’s along in an orange plastic bowl (see above), which I thought featured their striking color palate quite nicely. I also thought we might share them M&M’s with anyone we might see along the way. Ben, however, was concerned that they would melt before they could be consumed, so we made quick business of the protein-packed morsels, leaving nothing more than a swirl of green and yellow and brown at the bottom of the orange bowl. Whoops.

“Auntie Jo”, he said. “I’m in the mood for something a little bit bready, but not crispy.”

“Ummm, okay. Let’s see what we can find.”

Shucks, this whole day was his birthday present - a little nephew spoiling is okay now and then, right? Passing an Ethiopian market and café, I explained to him what injera bread was, and asked if he’d like to try it. “Sure, I’ll try it. That sounds like something I would like.” (Check out his open-minded, non-chicken finger dependent eating habits. Pretty good, right?) But the Ethiopian guy turned us down – said we had to order the entire meal in order to get the injera bread. What the HAILE Selassie is up with that? I mean, really? Refusing to sell us bread? I’m still confused about that one.

Shamed, and trying to explain to Ben that we’d been given the injera denial, we made our way down Alberta Street to my favorite neighborhood coffee shop/bakeries. And what do you know, there was the nicest looking bready, but not-too crispy-looking slice of homemade lemon bread studded with fresh, local blueberries. Feeling lightheaded from lack of sugar and carbs, we sat down to refuel and enjoy our snack.

“Auntie Jo”, Ben said, as we lingered at the sidewalk table, licking the remaining lemony icing from our fingers. “Wouldn’t it be cool if the main meal were a big bowl of sugar?”

The boy, it turns out, is a (chocolate) chip off the old block. It was a very proud moment for me.

“Yes, Ben”, I answered. “That would be very cool.”

P.S. When we returned to my house, he fell asleep almost immediately. But not before I made him thoroughly brush his little sugarcoated teeth. I’m not that bad of an auntie!