Buttered Popcorn DumDums and Other Powerful Truth Serums
Jenonymous here. I just got in from a somewhat surreal event at Dylan's Candy Bar in New York City. I won't get into the details of the purpose of the event, other than that it was in Dylan's cute private party room, was a sort of networking event, may figure prominently in the Jewish Dating Scene thread when I get around to writing it, and may be liftable directly into the next season of "Sex and the City," a show which I despise (I actually ran into my young female gynecologist). A chocolate fountain and vodka was also involved. But I digress.
The real story of this low-fee private party was a) to see Dylan's private party room and most of all b) being able to shop in Dylan's without hordes of tourists and kids running all over the damn place. For those of you who say, "But Jen, you damn misanthrope, don't go to a fucking GIANT CANDY STORE if you don't like kids or crowds," I say you are indeed correct. Hence my choice of going to an evening event where alcohol was served. To continue....
Naturally, there was a discount for bulk candy that night. And, to be honest, I was like...a kid in a candy store. I was astonished by the (albeit marked-up) selection of candies from my childhood that I thought I would never see again--what made me first grab a basket was an ancient novelty from literally my toddler days--a foil-wrapped chocolate lipstick and ring that I haven't seen since I was 4 or 5, which I believe that is from Germany.
Now, you have to realize that Dylan's specializes in discontinued and hard-to-find candy, as well as colors and flavors of established brands normally available only through corporate orders or specialty mail order (want some canteloupe bubble gum or hot pepper candies from Mexico?). Naturally, they have a full spectrum of M&Ms and every jellybean flavor ever made.
And Dum-Dums.
Every flavor of Dum-Dum ever made.
Now, one of my favorite flavors for hard candy is butterscotch. For most of my adult life, I always associate butterscotch with a sweet-salty flavor that is deep, resonant, almost musky, almost smoky.
And hundreds of sundaes and bags of drugstore candy later, I still haven't found the elusive flavor that I was looking for.
Until tonight.
Staring me in the face was a self-serve chute full of...buttered popcorn Dum-Dums.
To our foreign readers: Dum-Dums are small, almost gumball-sized balls of candy stuck on a stick; a sort of mini-lollipop. They come in many odd flavors such as pineapple and root beer. Oddly enough, their two biggest fan groups seem to be very small children and adults trying to quit smoking (anecdotally, I've heard that the thick stick and slow dissolve time is what is their attraction to the latter group).
As a very small child--3 years old--I remember my Mom and all of my neighbors' moms having a bag of assorted Dum-Dums in the house.
Seeing the wrapper, I suddenly realized that...THIS...was how I first tasted "butterscotch"--as "buttered popcorn." Yeah, they have oversweet butterscotch also, but this was...different.
I immediatley added a small self-serve bag with about 5 lollipops in it to my basket.
Even though I was exhausted and not particularly hungry after the chocolate fountain at the event (into which guests had dipped pretzels, marshmellows, and cut-up strawberries), I had one on the subway the second I got settled in my seat.
And then the memories came flooding back.
I am in our suburban kitchen. I can see the almond-colored floor and appliances, before we moved to a house that had the then more fashionable avacado color scheme.
I can see my Mom, and my Grandmother's place in Islip. I see my Grandfather taking one from the bag and replacing his ubiquitous toothpick with a Dum-Dum. I swear, I remember at this moment that he had a strawberry DumDum.
And I remember the flooding, warm, expanding taste of....hot buttered popcorn done as candy.
For that one train ride home, I was 3 again.
The taste and the memories came rushing back. Salt...SALT was what the cheap imitations were missing, what made them incomplete. As I sat back in my seat, I remembered striped Danskin toddler's clothes and my Mom's tennis dress and her Indian-print caftans and my sandbox and my blue poncho-and-beret set that she croched for me and my first school bus and Glen, the nice boy from my nursery school who also went to county day camp with me who always let me share the glitter and the Elmer's when the mean kids tried to hog them.
And I will never waste my money on false pretender butterscotch candies again.
I got other candies--mostly stuff to bring to the office to share, and to let my boss eat during agreement reviews, and to kill my bad monthly sugar cravings. The Dum-Dums will go into my secret stash drawer, however.
BBC News is on, and I need to get up at 6 AM (as usual) tomorrow. But I already know what I will have after lunch tomorrow.
