I’ll never have another Twinkie!  Hostess is dead!

To tell the truth I was never a big Twinkie fan – except on those infrequent occasions when I ran across chocolate ones.  I had no concept of regional marketing as a kid, so it was fascinating when I found new variations on old favorites when my family travelled.  But I’ve always been a chocolate guy, so the cupcakes were my snack of choice.  I used to love pulling the icing with the white curlicue off in pieces and then diving into the cakes themselves.  Never Ho-Hos, never Ding-Dongs.  Just Cupcakes.  

When I did detour from the cocoa treats, it was always Hostess O’s, the cake doughnuts with the powdered sugar dusting and raspberry filling, or berry pies.  Oh, and I became a big fan of their crumb cakes when Ann Blythe started hawking them in the 70s.  For a while in my teens I kept a box of Hostess O’s in my closet for late-night snacking.  Thank God I had a high metabolism.

Hostess was the only game in town, so I knew it was the best.  I’d see ads for Dolly Madison during “Peanuts” specials and once in a while I’d hear about Little Debby, but they were mysteries to me.  I’ve still never eaten either, so Hostess’ supremacy is unchallenged.

I haven’t had a Hostess treat in at least ten years.  Probably more.  At some point I decided I had to eat more like a grown-up.  But I can still taste them and I can remember exactly why I liked the ones I liked and why I hated the ones I didn’t.  Cupcakes were chocolate and perfect, Hostess O’s were just fabulous, berry pies were tangy and so sweet, and the crumb cakes were kind of mature.  On the other hand, Ho-Ho’s and Ding-Dongs had icing that tasted like wax.  Snoballs were just weird (though in a pinch I’d take them, tear off the white goo and eat the chocolate center).  Lemon pies were even stranger and apple pies were just meh.

We had a Hostess bakery in Seattle and I loved, LOVED driving by, taking in the aroma.  It always smelled like a combination of cake doughnuts and fruit pies and passing was almost as good as biting into the real thing.  Once when a friend convinced me to run an 8K (without training), it was that bakery that kept me going through the last K or so.  When the scent hit my nose, I got a little younger for a few minutes and managed to cross the finish line without collapsing or hurling.  Hostess isn’t just cakes and pies; it’s magic.

Hmm.  I was sad when I started this.  Now I’m sad and hungry.