The Taste of Growing Old

So, yesterday was my birthday, and at least for a few days, I get to say I’m the same age as Brett Favre – I’m not sure that’s a good thing, but at least I look a heck of a lot younger.

This morning I celebrated my advanced age by having a bowl of my favorite cereal as a child, Boo Berry, which was back on the shelves of my local supermarket, as it usually appears only around this time of year.

One of the worst Peter Lorre impressions of all time.

While still packed with sugary goodness, it simply doesn’t taste nearly as good as I remembered – a sad truth that I’ve also discovered over the past decade or so, much to my chagrin, with the annual March return of shamrock shakes at McDonald’s (which I don't recall being quite so minty) and that pineapple-flavored drink they sell at the main Grey’s Papaya in New York City - way pulpier than in my fond recollection.

Rarely does the memory of a taste hold a candle to the present-day palate – with one exception: the Chocodile by Hostess. Not quite a chocolate-covered Twinkie - the Chocodile’s creamy filling is far more creamy – unfortunately, it’s nearly impossible to find one east of the Mississippi due to the huge problems of keeping them fresh during the shipping process.

But a few years back on a trip to California, on a trip to the local supermarket, there they were sitting in the snack aisle. Fresh-from-the-bakery Chocodiles… and they were sheer heaven!

The slightly “off” cartoon mascot of the Chocodile, Chauncey.

Mmmmmm, Chocodiles!