On Baerchen Paerchen

What are Baerchen Paerchen?  Only the greatest gummi candy in the entire world.  Okay, that is not true - that is an epistemic problem I am unable to get into.  But they are good.  Oh so good.

They are gummis made by Haribo - and they come in pairs of bears (hence the name).  One bear of the pair is sweet and the other sour. They are just so extremely well done - each bear so flavorful and delicious. Here is a link to these marvels of candy, in case you were interested-  https://onlineshop.haribo.com/haribo/fruchtgummi/331/baerchen-paerchen

I feel a bit embarrassed admitting a fondness for such a brash, prepackaged food.  We live in a climate in which only the virtues of the "natural" - whatever that even means - are to be extolled.  But life needs gummy candies.  It needs the fun, the naughty, the mesmerizing.  It needs gummy candies made with pure human ingenuity.  With all of the the chemicals, the flavorings, the coloring agents, that go into them.  All those witch-like shenanigans that come together to make a delicious candy.

How wonderful it is to live in a world in which people decided that we need squishy candy shaped like pairs of bears holding hands, in flavors like lemon and cherry and orange and apple and currant and blueberry.  Sometimes we need our food to be fun, not precious.  Sometimes we need something to eat in bed that won't leave crumbs while watching through the series Deadwood for the third time. Sometimes we need to pack a happy snack for nibbling in our purse - and want something that won't get squished.  In fact, these even held up in a package shipped to the U.S.  Yay for preservatives!

There isn't a "natural" equivalent of these.  That perfect texture and the bright happy colors and the adorable bear shape.  Perfection.  If you tried to pick up a pair of actual bear cubs you would be eaten.  No one tries to eat you when you eat these. Unless you have taken the last one in the bag.

On marshmallows

I can't help but roll my eyes when I read an article or blog post about making marshmallows and the author acts like store-bought, mass-produced marshmallows are the food of the devil or even the devil himself (or herself as the case may be), while home-made ones are the one true light - your express elevator to all things that are good and pure and morally right.

This misunderstands the two kinds of marshmallows.  Store-bought ones are not some sad-sack, evil-imbued version of homemade ones.  Homemade marshmallows are completely different from store-bought, and I think it would do us good to appreciate both. The former is better in flavor, and gives you the control in making them like whatever catches your fancy at the moment.  These are confections to be enjoyed on their own.  The latter is better in texture! It is perfect for baking and melting.  I've never had luck in using those small batch homemade marshmallows in goodies like crispy rice treats or smores.  And when one wants a small hit of deliciousness in candy form, a store-bought marshmallow generally isn't the way to go.

Unless you are my son.

Each year, I try to make a holiday batch of homemade marshmallows.  But that doesn't seem likely this year - I'm just not ready to tackle the fussiness of it all.  So I decided to kick of  this year's holiday goodie season with marshmallow pops using the store-bought kind - stick one on a stick, coat in chocolate, then roll in nuts, sprinkles or coconut for a hit of flavor.

When Max was informed of our afternoon plans of marshmallow pop assembling, Max was joyous.  He was so happy that marshmallows were involved!

But then he seemed a bit confused.  And intrigued.  What did it mean that we were doing something to the marshmallows? Then I realized -  to him, these puffy treats were actually perfect on their own. While turning them into dressed-up pops made for a nice afternoon, he could have done without it.  Apparently, he likes them for all the wrong reasons.

On gelatin

We sometimes get it in our heads that a certain once loved food is no longer fit for consumption.  Perhaps reminding us of finicky childish palettes that we want to appear to have outgrown, perhaps it falls too much under the rubric of "processed," a most vague word indeed, and as we all know now, we are supposed to embrace also-vague-descriptor of "natural." Perhaps it we truly devoured too much of it that we no longer can stomach the thought of eating it.  Perhaps we associate it with a bout of sickness.  Sometimes, sadly, our taste buds truly no longer welcome the taste. But I suspect this happens less often than the former scenarios.

I think jello fell under the first reason for me, I am ashamed to admit.  A food that was once beloved, relished for its fun shapes and molds, an edible expression of the love of my mom (and Grammy!), a festive treat to be fit and cast into any possible celebration. And I abandoned it under the guise of being too grown-up for it.

But eventually our cold hearts thaw.  A gap forms in the landscape of our food palates.  We acknowledge that we are missing out on one of life's precious gifts.

And so I found my way back to the patient, waiting, loving embrace of fruity gelatin.  Here I basically turned a fruit smoothie - with mangoes, strawberries, citrus, and either a banana or another mango, sweetened with just a bit of agave  - into a delight of my childhood.  it may have taken awhile to return, but I'm now here to stay.  A fact that pleases Max and Molly.

1 mango
1 cup strawberries
juice from 1 tangerine
juice from 2 small meyer lemons
1 large banana or second mango
1 1/2 - 2 tablespoons agave nectar
1 packet unflavored gelatin

Remove flesh from mango and hull strawberries.  Blend the fruit and juices together with an immersion blender. Then bring to a gentle boil in small pot.

In medium bowl, sprinkle 1/2 cup cold water with a packet of unflavored gelatin.  set aside for 5 minutes.  Pour fruit mixture over.  Stir to dissolve.  Pour into 8x8 baking dish and refrigerate.  Cut into squares or get fancy with some cookie cutters!