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The time has come: popcorn bowls

When I first starting blogging almost a year ago, I was in a frenzy of excitement thinking about all the things I could write about. Funny childhood stories, Photoshop learning experiences, cooking, reviews on books I was reading–topics seemed to stretch to the horizon. “You should write about your popcorn pot,” my husband said. “Yeah!” I agreed, and then proceeded not to write about it ever.

Every so often over the next months, when I was having a case of writer’s block or an uninispired stretch, my husband would exclaim “You should write about popcorn and take a picture showing your bowl versus my bowl!” “Uh huh,” I would agree vacantly. And then I would write about something totally different.

Last week wore me out, and as soon as I had recovered some of my energies over the weekend, I went and spent them on my musical endeavors (how dare she!). So when Monday arrived and I faced my computer, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to write about anything. All of a sudden, I wondered if I had simply run out of things to say. I mean, looking at my recent activity on this here blog, it’s all either about cooking, or James. Seriously folks, I’ve been cruising off the 2 days I spent with Heidi and James for far too long–somehow I’ve squeezed 5 blog posts out of that one event, maybe because I feel like material is running in short supply. Maybe I’ve lost my touch, my brain informed me as I sat in my chair, glassy-eyed.

And then, the voice of my husband came back to me. “Wriiiiite abbooooouuuuut paaaaawwwwwpcwwwoooorrrrrrrn,” said the ghostly apparition. So I will write about popcorn.

I love popcorn. My sisters and I grew up eating it during movies, during long study sessions, and on the couch as we immersed ourselves in a good novel. As soon as we were old enough, we started popping our own on the stove, with a goodly amount of olive oil and melted butter poured over top.

My popcorn habit has never stopped. I pop myself a bowl probably about 4 times per week, always in the evening after dinner. To me, it’s like a night cap. It signals: it’s time to relax. Happiness and rest is at hand. Granted, I have stopped using melted butter and am quite happy with a sprinkling of regular salt instead of the flavored kinds I was briefly addicted to, but still–you don’t want to know the amount of calories involved. You just don’t.

Another thing you should know: I like to have my own popcorn bowl. Correction: I need to have my own popcorn bowl. This is a trait my sisters share as well: we must have our own exclusive popcorn space. Upon my marriage six years ago, I soon realized that when my brand-spanking new husband shared my popcorn during a movie, I had to resist the urge to snatch up the bowl and make a run for it. Yes, I was feeling very possessive about my popcorn. You need to learn to share! I moralized myself. But the Little Train that Could, this time, Couldn’t. So I told my wonderful new husband that if he wanted to share my popcorn, he had to get his own bowl. I had to maintain exclusive rights to my stash. I’d share, but the actual vessels of the snack must remain separate.

I’m working on my issues as we speak, because I have a feeling that any children that come into our lives may not respect these boundaries.

Here is my bowl next to his bowl.

Let’s get a closer look at this rather noteworthy discrepancy in bowl size.

And let’s be honest–sometimes he only goes for a little red ramekin-full.

I have long had a metabolism and occupation that could hande this kind of popcorn. Heck, with the stress and physical activity of my previous job, I probably could have eaten three times as much and burnt it all off in a single encounter with my boss. However, changes have occurred in my work-life that have caused a certain bottom and a certain swively chair to become strongly connected. Bosom-buddies, so to speak. Having hit a small growth spurt since coming to Chicago (read: wider not taller; read; I sit in a chair in an office all day; read: I love food; read: I loathe aerobic exercise) one of the areas I’m placing under careful examination is my popcorn habit.

Resolution #1A: instead of liberally pouring popcorn kernels into the pot, I have started measuring out my allotment. I’m currently down from about 1/2 cup of kernels to 1/3 cup, with views on that very modest 1/4 cup. There has been no change in the size of my girth . . . yet.

Resolution #1B: choose to love the girth? (Resolution Still Under Review)

And on the subject of the popcorn pot . . . well, I can’t hide this monstrosity forever.

No, I don’t wash it more than once per month. Okay, fine! More like once per quarter.

Yes, it came from the same set of pots gifted to us for our wedding many years ago. The other pots still look practically new, but this guy . . . I have aged him beyond repair.

Please accompany me on a short journey of rationalization: I figure if there are germs, I’m just making my immune system stronger. I figure if it’s an ugly pot, I’m just teaching myself to look past the surface of things. I figure if the pot looks about 95 years old, it’s just preparing me for being 95 years old and still loving the way I look. I figure it the grease gets so caked on that it will never come off, well, there’s another reason not to bother washing it.

And that, my friends, is all I have to say.

Phew! And that takes care of today’s post. And now for the next day . . . and the next day . . . and the next day . . . How do you get over the hump when your creative endeavors are stalled? I could use some pointers. Current ideas: trudging forward even if the results are under par; rewarding self with large shopping spree at Plato’s Closet; spanking self repeatedly until pain propels me into high gear.

Jenna:

View Comments (32)

  • Okay, this is weird. I wrote a draft post yesterday about...popcorn. The kind you make on the stove, because any other popcorn is completely unacceptable. We are psychic twins!

    Luckily, I do not need my own popcorn bowl because my husband (freak) doesn't like popcorn. Who doesn't like popcorn?!

    ps: My popcorn pot isn't quite as ugly as yours, but it ain't good.

    • Psychic twins! I like it. Plus, that automatically makes me a waaaaay cooler person (by association with you and your snark =).

  • Yum. I love me some popcorn. :-) You may have noticed I haven't blogged in a while - when I run out of stuff to say, I just stop posting. :-) Not saying this is the best method, but it's what works for me. :-)

  • My popcorn memories are of Jiffy Pop. I loved watching that foil expand and grow as the kernels inside magically transformed into fluffy popcorn. Your popcorn pot has a completely different charm.

  • One of the best things about farmers' market season returning is that one of our growers brings corn for popping -honest-to-goodness ears bred for popcorn. You put the entire ear in a paper bag and microwave it until the popping slows. It's my favorite popcorn ever!

  • I have also posted about popcorn on my cooking blog. I had to. Popcorn is my favoritest food. We have a Whirly-Pop, so my own pots don't suffer, but that poor Whirly-Pop pot is quite pitiful. My husband and I share from one bowl, but he is quite aware that if he so much as eats even one half-pop (the jewels of popped corn) then I will leave him and take the popcorn with me.

  • You guys turned me into a popcorn addict too. And I finally found more of the Reese cheese powder seasoning (*read- I bought a 6-pack of it on Amazon) which I am equally addicted to.

    • I would still be addicted to that Reese cheese seasoning, but our grocery store in Delaware stopped carrying it, and thus broke my addiction.

  • MMmm! We love popcorn for a nightcap here too, or with our Sunday Night Snack Supper. Dale reigns Popcorn King, so we leave it up to him to make it. He makes a HUGE bowl full in our Stir Crazy popper, which by the way, doesn't get washed more than twice a year. Dale says it takes away from the flavor. I used to wrinkle my nose, but after reading this, I now know...... it must be a popcorn connoisseur thing.
    2 things we do to make it "healthier": pop it in olive oil (he says use enough to make the seasonings stick) and we use sea salt. 2 things we do to make it taste better that are NOT healthy: Butter buds seasoning and Lawry's season salt while popcorn is still hot so it really coats. Oh man, his popcorn is so stinkin' good.
    It is now a MUST that we smuggle it into the theatre, or our friends won't go with us. Some friends! No really, it's that good! :)
    So, have you tried WHITE kernels? Normally it is a smaller kernel. This allows it to pop up a little lighter and a lot more tender and delicate. But maybe you already know that? :)

    • YES! I love alternating between the smaller white kernels and the big yellow ones. I've never heard of Butter buds seasoning, but now I'll have to keep an eye out for it at the grocery store. I LOVE that you smuggle popcorn into the theatre. =) That's just awesome.

  • I'm in a similar situation with the desk chair and computer screen for work. I'm still not sure how much I appreciate the expansion of my rear since I started - because aerobics and strenuous exercise is the bain of my poor lower back. But I trudge on.

    I may have to venture into the popcorn realm once again. Truffle oil and a little sea salt is where it's at for me...

  • Ah, the beauty of homemade popcorn. Oh, so, so good. And I agree on the not washing the popcorn pot. The bowls made me laugh tho'. Much disparity. :)

    Now I want popcorn, with unsalted butter. I think I can call that lunch. Right?

    On a side note - as much as I want to love Plato's Closet [I have teenage girls afterall] I can not get past the dippy [DIPPY!] girls they hire to work there. I have never had a transaction they didn't screw up royally when they weren't busy texting or snapping gum.

    • Yeah, the music they play also drives me a little nuts--but I always come away with such fabulous (and cheap) finds I figure I can deal with it for an hour or two.

  • Fabulous post! And I love the grunginess of the popcorn pot. It speaks of true devotion to the puffed grain.