A Better Oreo

I was recently reunited with Oreos again after a 20-year break. As a kid, I loved these sweet chocolate cookie sandwiches, and like most Oreo enthusiasts, I had my own way of eating them. Some like to dunk in milk, others like to lick the filling. Some even just bite into the cookie without ceremony, thereby creating an Oreo avalanche running down their shirt. In my opinion the best way to eat an Oreo is to gently and slowly take apart the two crumble-prone cookies without breaking them, and scrape the white filling off with my two front teeth. The remnants of the white gooey stuff on the cookie now look like the confusing freeway system in Minneapolis, MN.

Last week, developers and product managers from the software company I work for took two days to focus on the different "troublesome" components of our product that needed much work. Many stayed into the wee hours of the night to get these problems worked out. In order to support our developers and anyone else who wanted to stay and help out with this "spike" in productivity and creativity, our wonderful admin team purchased many yummy and coma-inducing snacks, such as circus animal cookies, peanut butter cookies, goldfish, apples, mini tangerines/oranges, and of course...Oreos.

I am approaching my mid (cough cough) thirties and am trying my darnedest to be healthy. Impossible, as I found myself devouring the packages of Oreos like a HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO. Literally. With fond childhood memories zapping through me with each bite, I found myself enjoying the cookie instinctively the same way I did when I was a kid. In the aftermath of Oreo nostalgia I have no idea how many I ate.

This weekend I shopped at Sprouts and found a package of Newman's Own Chocolate Creme-filled Chocolate Cookies, a knock-off of the Oreo cookie. I've shopped at Sprouts many many times before and am fully aware of the seduction that takes place in the cookie and cracker aisle. My mother has recently started shopping at stores like Sprouts and Trader Joes and manages to buy everything sweet and unhealthy. It's from Trader Joe's, it MUST be healthy, right? Not always.

I decided to give the Newman's Own cookies a try, and can happily report, these are BETTER than Oreos. I speak blasphemy, yes. The chocolate creme was so....um...CREAMY, and the texture was much softer than the unknown white goo that holds Oreo cookies together. Yes.They.Are.Better.

Here is the "skinny" on nutritional info:

Newman's Own Chocolate Creme-filled Chocolate Cookie (1 serving = 2 cookies)
Calories: 130 grams
Total fat: 4.5 grams
Trans Fat: NONE!
Total Carbs: 20 grams
Sugar: 10 grams

How do they compare to Oreos?

Original Oreos 18oz package (1 serving = 1 cookie)
Calories: 160 grams
Total fat: 7 grams
Trans fat: Nope!
Total Carbs: 25 grams
Sugar: 14 grams

Notice the serving sizes? Eureka! Newman's Own HEAVEN cookies are better tasting and HEALTHIER than Oreos! Yea!!

Now I have a snack to accompany me whilst I watch the Biggest Loser. Don't tell Bob or Jillian...

My new favorite thing

Thanks to my sister Diane for introducing me to this comic strip.

Creative burst

Lately I've found myself perusing the art supply stores, and collecting masses of colorful glass beads. After I open a jar of spaghetti sauce, I wash it and put it aside, hoping to use it for something....someday.

I have this overwhelming desire to create. Paint, draw, sew (sigh, yes sew) make candles, embroider, make some jewelry, you name it!

Girl Scouts was a huge part of my life from Kindergarten to sixth grade. Within the houses of well-meaning mothers of school-mates, I learned how to embroider, sew pillows, make pudding, (ah... instant pudding...the things I remember)etc. As I grew older and entered puberty, I decided that I did NOT want to be Suzy Homemaker. I was ABOVE those sort of things, I didn't want to sit around and sew and be a mother, NO WAY. That stuff was BEYOND me. Pishah! Boring! I was trying to find out who I was and started to rebel against the things I used to think were kind of cool, and that included Girl Scouts.

Then I think of my mother, and all those Halloween costumes that she made me when I was a kid, and most recently Willie's Ewok costume. I mean, that was a kick - ass costume, for sure!



I began to realize how important those things meant to me as a wide eyed innocent. I loved going to the fabric store with my mother, picking out a pattern and watching as she worked her magic on her Kenmore 1960's AWESOME SEA GREEN machine. You know the kind with the pedal? She still has that thing by the way....(and it still friggin works)

I'm off and running! I've spent the last 5 hours making some really cool jewelry, although the pictures that I took really didn't come out great. (Aha! Photography! Now that is something I'd like to master! Adding to list....)

Irony

Poem

The Daredevil, The Cherub and the Innocent

Waiting in a checkout line
I am suddenly aware of the blondest
Little boy I have ever seen.
His little, round two-year old body
Perched atop a metal cart carrying a TV
His back to me.

He turns around and faces me.
His expression apprehensive
Then his eyes furrow, cheeks grow
Rounder
I mimic his look, playfully attempting
To crack a smile
From the platinum-haired cherub.
His gaze remains steadfast.

My attention is caught by brother # one
The Oldest, who without the apprehension of
The Cherub, is attempting
A most daring and precarious feat.
Hi lifts his small agile self onto the cart
(only after admitting openly to me that is
indeed wearing TWO shirts) and leans
Against the lower bar
His proclamation:
“Look! No hands!”

I keep an amused eye on him
Hoping he won’t fall, while
The Cherub looks on at me still
Trying to figure out which planet
I come from.

Once again my attention is diverted by a little one.
Brother # three
Baby nestled in Mama’s arms.
His face is contemplative, eyes then lock on mine
A smile slowly starts to creep on his face, as if,
He realizes that he knows me from
Somplace....
Aunty?

I can’t help but smile,
My eyes not easily distracted now
And as if on cue, a juicy blob of saliva
Escapes from the corner of Brother #3’s mouth.
Oozing its way down his chin, it reaches
Its happy destination:
Mama’s shoulder.

This amuses him and his smile transforms
Into something like satisfaction
As if this is what he meant to do.

I giggle, enraptured by is simple and
Innocent glee.
Loving his playful nature, and constant
Smiling
Smiling
I again look at the platinum-haired cherub
And I notice:

He is smiling at me too.


Marianne Franco
Sometime ago in Reno, NV 2001