Not Pictured: 1 Slice of Dean and DeLuca Iced Lemon Bread

(photo by Dan)

Eaten before and after Infant CPR and Safety class at Birth Day Presence.

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Emergency Snacks on Hand

Sometimes, when I'm riding on the subway or in an elevator, I think to myself, "How long could I live on the food I'm carrying with me if I got stuck?"

I cleaned out my bag this morning and discovered a number of snack items (plus a water bottle, Tylenol, and vitamins) -- Clif Bar, peanuts, cheese, and an apple.  As hungry as I've been lately, this wouldn't last too long, but I'll ride the elevator without fear this afternoon.

So, what's edible in your bag?

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According to Snackreligious...

You CAN have nachos for lunch on a weekday.  Go ahead.  I've given you permission.  Many of your coworkers will be jealous.  Few will say so.

These are from the Big Enchilada, in Union Square (NYC).  They're a "small," if you can believe that. 

Also pictured -- the Emergency Hot Sauce that lives in my locker at work.  It's important to have on hand.

p.s. The hard taco shells at Big Enchilada (I love crispy tacos, no matter how inauthentic they may be) are too salty.  What a bummer.  But the chips are fine (if a bit flimsy).

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When in a blizzard:

Look out for snow balls.




Make snow things.




Eat your emergency chocolate (nuts = energy!).

An Unnecessary Adventure

[I know today should be Poetry Tuesday, but this is an emergency post!]

When the laundry man came to pick up this week's load, the batch of cookies in the oven (Cocoa Snowflakes) had 5 minutes left to bake. I checked the timer and paused the DVD of Miracle on 34th Street.

Moving quickly downstairs with our bag of dirty clothes, I closed the apartment door behind me (so the cat wouldn't get out). In my hurry, I had not taken anything with me -- no keys, no wallet, no phone. And when I heard the door click shut, I thought, "Oh. I hope the apartment door's not locked. That would be bad."

It was. Locked. And bad.

Dan was scheduled to be at soccer for another 1-2 hours. The cookies had 3 minutes left to bake. The downstairs neighbor was in the shower (I could hear it running) and didn't have keys or share a window. I could get on the fire escape from the downstairs apartment, if I waited for the shower to end (and allowed a decent interval for the shower-er to get dressed), but I was 90% sure our windows were all locked. I keep them that way so no one can get into our apartment from the fire escape.

These thoughts zooming through my head, I gave the laundry man the laundry and double-checked my apartment door. Still locked. Friends who hold on to a spare set of keys for us live nearby, but I had no shoes. I thought about shouting after the laundry man and asking him for a ride to the spare key holders' home. All options seemed terribly embarrassing.

I had to do it.

I pulled out my messy "baking" ponytail (I hadn't showered yet) hoping the hair might fall in such a way that it would hide my identity), unlocked the building's front door from the inside (in case I had to come back with no keys, as I didn't even know if our friends would be in), and ran 4 blocks barefoot to their house, feeling -- and probably looking -- like a crazy person (uncombed hair, no shoes or socks, dirty glasses, etc.). I rang the doorbell forcefully -- twice. I was hoping someone would be home, but not irretrievably asleep.

After that second ring, the door was opened. Rescued, I breathlessly, briefly explained my situation. I was promptly loaned sneakers and given my spare keys, at which point I ran/walked home, breathing hard, stopping only to explain to my next-door neighbor what had happened (apparently, I frightened his wife when I ran by on my trip out, unshod and shouting something about my apartment).

With the spare keys, I re-entered my home. The apartment smelled like cocoa and orange. The oven timer was blinking 00:00. The cat (and Miracle on 34th Street) waited patiently.

My feet are cold. My lungs hurt. My eyes are watering. My dear friends were rudely awakened. But the cookies may still be edible. They're cooling now.

And that is what matters.

I went to your legally-mandated disaster training and all I got was this Deputy Fire Warden armband.

Look. Here's what I think. If there's a law that says we have to be there, you should be required to serve us snacks.

Where were the snacks?

Poetry Tuesday: "How Hot Is It?"

[We're deep in the steamy thick of summer here in NYC. Yesterday, I found myself home from work, sticky and cranky, eating butterscotch chips out of the freezer while all the fans in the house whirred at top speed. I was suddenly reminded of the first line of a poem I wrote in college, a little over ten years ago (during the month of January, oddly enough). Allow me...]


so hot the sunlight is wet - he, limp,
a rooftop landmark; turn left at the sunbather
from 3C-heavy head,
masses of hair groundcover pale flesh

He is his own roof garden.

moist ripeness, dewed with sweat.
hosed-down-reduced to
sodden melted sugars, pinkwhite fat
sopping starch, matted hair and tarpish skin

Nothing sprouts here, where this mess lies
Supine out of soil
Green plastic weave of lawn-chair raft
floats, mildewed, in that sun.

The first thing we do, let's eat all the ice cream.

Maddeningly, the power in our apartment (NOT the whole building; just our apartment) keeps going out. My first response to any sort of blackout - personal or citywide - is to consider whether there is ice cream in the freezer that needs to be eaten. I got lucky today. There was approximately one portion of Turkey Hill Vanilla & Chocolate (purchased for the making of birthday brownie sundaes) that needed desperately to be consumed.

I saved the day on this one.

Poetry Tuesday: two stanzas of haiku about an old friend.

On Sunday

Warm air kissed near ground,
Winter's wrap of cold shrugged back,
I'd worn the light coat.

Hands met old pockets
Where, inside, a stored chocolate
Jumped to meet my grasp.

Don't hate me because I'm brownie-full.

Homemade is best, right? In most cases I do think so, and sort of snobbily, but perfect homemade brownies elude me. I've made dozens of brownie recipes and dozens of batches from store-bought mixes, and I just plain prefer the kind out of a box. But I can't stop believing that someday I will discover "that" brownie recipe that will knock me off the box forever. So if you're reading this and you have a good brownie recipe, please share.

Personally, I like brownies moist and chewy and fudgy, without nuts or chocolate chips, and a little underdone. I don't want cakey brownies because I can make a cake if I want to eat something that is like cake. Brownies should be easy to smoosh into a ball with your fingers while they're warm.

This time, Pillsbury Brownie Classics Traditional Fudge (Family Size) met my needs. Beat that, homemade brownies! Please?

Let the movies lead the way.

I was not expecting much snacking inspiration to come from the Rodgers and Hammerstein musical State Fair (1945), though I have been to a couple of different state fairs and I know the food to be had at such an event is often excellent (anybody out there need me to judge a homemade pickle contest?).



The other food featured heavily in the plot was mincemeat, which is one of those dishes that (like blancmange) I always thought sounded like it would be delicious when I read the name in books growing up but didn't entice me when I was met with the real thing. In the case of mincemeat, I didn't know there would be all that fruit in there.

So, I don't always like fruit and meat (I used to have a rule disallowing the pairing, which I have relaxed in recent years), but I do like all kinds of fruit in different combinations with a meal or as a snack on their own. And I was excited and inspired by the emergency snacking possibilities of wearing bunches of fruit (tastefully, always) on your dress, as modeled (using cherries) by Margy Frake (Jeanne Crain)!



And on your hat!



This is a fashion-and-snacking statement I could get behind.

Peanut butter baby. Don't mean maybe.

I usually approve when candy bar manufacturers try "new twists" on old favorites (big exception: whose bright idea was it to change the recipe to make 3 Musketeers Bars lower in fat, ruining them in the process?). The whole "White Chocolate X" (Kit Kat, Reeses, etc.) trend was a pretty good one (sorry I missed the White Chocolate Take 5 bar in 2005!). But no one has matched -- yet! I challenge you! -- the update Twix bars were given when Mother Industry came up with the Twix PB.



Perfect! Forget the milk chocolate coating on the outside and the still-exciting fact that you get two bars in one package. We're going in. There's peanut butter in there that is just the right density -- a little dry, though moist enough to coat your tongue, but not too crumbly -- and it truly tastes like peanut butter. You also get a chocolate cookie layer (resembling an oreo crust) that is a big upgrade from the old cookie base. The flavor is richer, the sugar less bossy. Peanut butter rules the day.

This variety of Twix is not sold in every bodega or grocery, so if you love them like I do, follow my lead. Whenever I see them for sale I buy two (if it's not melt-the-chocolate-in-your-bag weather in NYC). It's good to have a contingency peanut butter Twix bar on hand.

Speaking of which, they do melt quickly in hot climates. I had to bring this one home and freeze it in order to be able to unwrap and enjoy it this morning:




Hypothetical grump: Did someone think peanut butter needed a punchy new twenty-first century nickname? I'm hoping the "PB" of the candy's label is only because the words "peanut butter" didn't fit lengthwise next to "Twix" on the packaging. Aloud, I would never call this anything but a peanut butter Twix.

If, on the other hand, an advertising team thought that giving peanut butter a nickname would make a new candy more "now," well I'm not fer it. I'm agin' it. Because that would smack of corporate cool and trend-wrangling to me, and I'm already plenty wrong about the trends without branding gurus forcing more that's wrong upon me. What am I, a 17 year old fake snowboarder in a Mountain Dew commercial wearing a Dr. Seuss hat? I don't call peanut butter "PB."

UPDATE: It has come to my attention that the "PB" may have been the company's way to differentiate between this chocolate-cookie-layer version and the original peanut butter Twix bar, which had a plain cookie base but has been discontinued. Some snackers feel that the "PB" is a disappointing imitation of its successor. I had forgotten that there was an "original" peanut butter Twix at all and can make no comparison until the two are released side-by-side.

Emergency Preparedness

Are you prepared for snack emergencies? Don't get caught without the succor of the sucker, as it were. A mid-day snack might just boost your energy (watch the sugar if you don't want to crash) and your mood (unless you choose something that tastes nasty, I guess).

If you work from home or stay at home, you are probably set for snack storage space. If you live out of a car or bag or backpack or purse during the day, or have saddlebags on your horse, you should definitely make room for multiple emergency rations in there. I like to mix it up and stock multiple options -- one chocolate item, one piece of fruit, and something salty, etc.

If you only have pockets, bless your heart. Stick a granola bar (no melty chocolate elements) or packet of sunflower seeds in one of them. A slab of fruit leather sticking out of your back jeans' pocket is the new comb. No pockets, even? Tape a small bag of dried banana slices to the inside of your leg under your pants or skirt. Wear one of those candy necklaces (matching bracelet, anyone?). Do what it takes.

If you are lucky enough to have a closet, cubby, desk or locker at work, like me, you have a little space and, if you stock it well, you can luxuriate in the knowledge that you have extra emergency snack fixings on hand. The line between snacking and mealtime eating is very thin, by the way, so don't hesitate to make your supplies do double-duty.



I suggest:
1. hot sauce
2. salt
3. pepper (tiny grinders are nice)
4. other spices as space and budget allow. A small packet of rosemary or a shaker of cajun seasoning doesn't take up much room.
5. a no-prep-needed emergency snack item -- I choose dark chocolate. The lovely Heather introduced me to both the concept of emergency chocolate and the line of dark chocolate bars with endangered species on the wrappers. I get mine at Whole Foods in Union Square near the registers. I also like to stock a can of smoked almonds.
6. chopsticks -- make any snack more fun!
7. toothbrush, toothpaste, floss, etc., if being dentally responsible is part of your snacking ritual.

If you have an office refrigerator, why not add:
8. mustard (now you can have a veggie corn dog as a snack!)
9. sriracha (to spice up a dull side of mashed potatoes)
10. mayonnaise (try tomato slices and mayo on a cheese and dill scone from the farmers' market for elevenses one day)

What's that? You hate mayonnaise? That's cool. Tailor your list to your own tastes, silly. And feel free to share your emergency snack kit contents in the comments.