Basking in bed with a big bowl and a book, is my idea of heaven, without leaving the house.
The trouble is, the sodium, even in Skinny Pop, the single girl’s answer to keeping your dress size down, kinda spoils the party.
Of course I eat a jumbo bag I later on regret when at 2 a.m. I’m awakened by pain in my legs, gasping for water, but never say die when it comes to snacking.
I know…why don’t I just pop my own?
A little secret about me. I never read directions. Why? Who knows. Just part of my charm I guess, from years of living alone, doing everything by the seat of my pants, cooking being no exception.
I haul out one of my many unused frying pans I should just plant geraniums in, choose the smallest (DUHNUMBER 1), pour olive oil in it like I’m about to fry a steer, and throw in a whole cup of pure, organic, no sodium Vermont made corn.
If I had read the package it says..3 tablespoons of oil over low heat, and a third cup of corn in an ample pan.
As I wait alongside my personalized popcorn bowl wondering how long it will take, I suddenly hear that great sound of popping, almost like a rumba beat.
Now I’m impatient it being a whole 25 seconds and all since I turned up the gas as though I were cremating, so…here comes DUH NUMBER2… without turning off, or even down the flame, remove the lid off the pan and…
WHOA…WE HAD THE ROCKETTES OF CORN, LITTLE KERNELS NOW THE SIZE OF PLUMS, POPPING ALL OVER THE KITCHEN.
Though shocked, start to laugh, the last one being on me when the smoke alarm went off causing the assistant super to burst in like the cavalry.
“Suzonna, what are you dooing?”
“Cooking, what does it look like I’m doing?”
When he arrived, all 7 feet of him, I politely asked if he’d like a bowl to take with him, that is, after he opened all the windows, reset the alarm and gave me a lecture on fire safety.
After I swept up the kitchen that looked like the aftermath of a Yankee Game, my desire for popcorn not gone, tooled over to CVS and bought a big bag of Skinny Pop that, whaddaya know, was on sale.
Bruce, the sweet, bald, tattooed fella who waited on me said, “Do you smell smoke?”
I'm just a girl who likes to write slightly on slant. I've had a career in fashion, dabbled in film and to be honest, I don't like talking about myself. Now my posts are another matter so I will let them speak for themselves.
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