PUh-lease tell me you remember this commercial… No, seriously – Tell me you do…
OK – If you don’t, pretend you do for a second. Oh, and also pretend you know that’s a pint sized Steve Urkell.
I’ve got a story… Flow with me.
I used to envy the kids in the Oreo commercials. ENVY! As a kid I wasn’t really allowed to eat Oreo cookies. We weren’t really allowed to eat much junk food, save for some candy every now and then. Oreos were a treat reserved for special occasions, parties, or trips to my neighbor’s apartment. My mom’s idea of complete nutrition didn’t lie at the bottom of a pack of Oreos. The woman simply did not believe we should be hopped up on sugar; so when those few and far between moments presented themselves, I cherished them.
I would often found myself fantasizing I’d get picked for an Oreo commercial where I would constantly flub my lines and get to dunk and eat as many cookies as I wanted.
*Sigh*… That soo did not happen. Instead I instituted a ban on all sandwich cookies which lasted, oh – several years.
This is how it all went down:
When I was about 11 years old my grandmother took me along to visit a friend of hers. As a child my grandma and I were stuck to the hip. We were always together. I loved going places with her, even to visit friends since this gave me time to listen in on adult conversation. My grandma’s friend was very vivacious, plump gray haired gal who upon entering her home offered me some fudge filled sandwich cookies; cookies made by certain elves that live in a tree…
OK, they weren’t Oreos, but I wasn’t allowed to eat cookies, remember? I tore into those suckers like it was my last meal – And if I remember correctly I may have eaten the entire package. Like a freakin’ glutton… Then I got sick… Wickedly sick, paying for my moment of childhood gluttony… From then on I blamed every sandwich cookie – And henceforth viewed the Oreo cookie commercials and jingle with much contempt. I had instilled a lifelong ban on the all American sandwich cookies. There was no listening to reason. I had made my choice and I was sticking to it.
And hot dammit I did…
It would be about 14 years before I tried another sandwich cookie. I would’ve been completely happy never eating another cookie again; but I married a man who grew up eating junk food. Pound cakes, Oreos, Chef Boyardee, Frosted Flakes – All the stuff banned in my house as a child, he got to eat every day. All he had to do was ask. The man grew up in junk food nirvana. This is the man who will eat an Entemann’s pound cake (a WHOLE pound cake) over green beans any day; so when we began dating he made it his business to turn me to the junk side.
It took some years, but the man succeeded… He broke me down and got me to forgive Oreos, the casualty in my personal sandwich cookie war. One reluctant bite took me back to the Oreo commercials which I enjoyed so much. I sang the jingle, being downright ridonculous. To say that I now owe my fat ass to Oreos would be an almost true assessment. I love those cookies with the intensity of a teenage girl crush – And can be as possessive as a jealous lover when there’s a box in front of me. That’s real…
When I found this recipe over at Annie’s Eats I thought of writing her a letter professing my undying love for her and Oreos; but that would have been too weird. No one writes letters anymore… Instead I adapted her recipe and added peanut butter to the filling, putting together the best combination in the world next to spaghetti and meatballs.
What can I say? I show love the only way I know how…
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