When I was a kid in elementary school, once a week my grandma would give me a dime, and I would walk down to ‘Al’s’, the corner grocery store, to buy the twin package of Hostess cupcakes.  Al was a big burly guy with curly hair, who stood behind the counter and always said, “Guess you’re here for your cupcakes”, and I would shyly place my dime on the counter, and quickly leave with my treasure tucked safely in my hand.

Some kids when eating their cupcakes would peel the icing with the white squiggle off the top and eat that first, and then they would open the cupcake, scoop out the cream with their finger..and finish up by popping the chocolate cake into their mouths. I never did that. I preferred to take a bite of it all…icing, delicious rich cream center and soft moist cake…savoring each mouthful.

When I say I went to Al’s once a week…I mean EVERY week during the years that I went to P.S. 100.  By the time I entered the sixth grade, I was sure that one day Al would say to me, “You know what kid?  You’ve been buying these Hostess cupcakes for years now.  Today…they’re on me!”

I waited for that day to happen all through that sixth grade year of fractions, ancient Greece and book reports, before moving on to another school to attend junior high, but it never did.

Years later when I had children of my own, I bought a package of Hostess cupcakes to eat, (they were no longer a dime), filled with the anticipation of that little kid. Yikes!!! Hostess obviously changed the recipe, and took out all the wonderful ingredients that clogged arteries but tasted so good, because the cream was cloying, the cake was rubbery, and the icing tasted artificial.  I guess my palate was now a bit too sophisticated for long ago dime-store treats.  Yes, of course, I had aged.

Hostess…even though your cupcakes are probably more heart-healthy now, thanks for the memory of that delicious confection from years ago, enjoyed and anticipated each week by a little kid.