Jiffy Pop

Mmmm...Jiffy Pop.

Yes, it's still around. Here I can find it on the bottom shelf of the popcorn section, abandoned to two columns underneath the hostile takeover of Orville and Jolly.

You remember Jiffy Pop, don't you? The edible fad of my childhood. The one my mom would never let me do because why would we buy that when we had a perfectly good electric popcorn popper right at home. You simply had to pre-heat for five minutes, pour in the required amount of oil, heat the oil until one or two kernels popped, poured in exactly 1/2 cup of yellow corn and listened for the popping to slow down. Well-timed removal of the glass lid was honed as an art form. Who needs Jiffy Pop?

Sure, I could pop a bag of something in the microwave. But I never do. Not because I'm worried about the state of carcinogens or phosphates or whatever the heck kind of bad juju resides in the bags. More from the state of my under-sized, under budget microwave. That, and air popped is better for you.

But every once in a while, usually when Stop & Shop is having a 2/$5 sale on Jiffy Pop, I bring it home and share it with my son. Even more every once in a while, I save one for myself on that rarest of rares: mom's night alone. Yeah, I put on the comfy jammies and paint my toes while I watch The Big Bang Theory on DVR, of course I do. What self-respecting Glamour Geek doesn't? But then I hobble into the kitchen on my heels and pull out the Jiffy Pop, contemplating the state of my kitchen cabinets and wondering if I could get away with painting the ceiling a Robin's Egg blue as I shake and swirl, shake and swirl, over the electric stove. I hear the tell-tale sound of sizzle, that first key moment akin to the sound of the horns as they release the hounds. Tally Ho! Sizzle. Shake and swirl. Sizzle. Shake, shake, shake. Swirl right three times, left three times. Pop. Popop. Popopop. Look, there goes the foil. Ping. Poing. Expand-o-rama.

Jiffy Pop. Childhood memories, pop culture flashbacks and a tasty treat all in one.