BODY WATCH : Snack Attacks : For between-meal meals, do you go for healthy or not-so-healthy? Or maybe you reach for nothing at all. : Confessions of a Munchy Misfit
As soon as she arrives at my house, the search begins. Chips, crackers, cookies, “just a little something to nibble on,” my mom says. Finding meager munchables, we make the compulsory trip to the grocery store snack aisle.
Mom is a world-class snacker, and she knows that if munchies were water, my house would be the Sahara.
As the daughter of a snacker, the wife of a snacker and mother of two little snackers, how did I become so snacking-impaired? When people talk about their favorite snacks, I’m at a loss for words because I don’t have any. Even our dog sits patiently with pleading eyes whenever a crunchy carbohydrate comes through the door.
Have I taken the idea of spoiling my supper too seriously? It’s not that I don’t have a good appetite. I truly love desserts. I’ve just never cared much for filling up on fillers--especially when I know that breakfast, lunch or dinner is less than a few hours away.
Besides, have you checked out some of those snack names? If you’re having a good day, do you pick the “Sociables” and on the day you suffer from PMS choose “Screaming Yellow Zonkers”?
It’s not easy being a munchy misfit. We’re often misunderstood--like my friend and fellow non-snacker Jane, a successful career woman whose father wonders if she’s having financial difficulties because she never has any Do-Dads or Cheese Tid-Bits on hand.
“He thinks if I don’t have snacks in the cupboard, I’m having trouble buying food,” she says. “I try to tell him, ‘I don’t like Do-Dads,’ but he doesn’t get it.”
Neither does my family. They’d snack all day if I let them.
The first words my 2-year-old put together were “Beer-Nuts.” My husband maintains that he’s not responsible for that one, but he is responsible for the disappearance of a bag of chocolate chips in the freezer. He claims it was the only thing fit to munch on in the house.
The kids are inventive too. From about 2 p.m. on, while I’m urging them to eat fruit, they insist on Dixie cups filled with miniature marshmallows and sugar-sweetened breakfast cereal--at least until they hear the ice cream truck coming down the street.
Although I’m known for my snack-free ways, not everyone appreciates it.
When it was my week to provide snacks for my son’s kindergarten class, I tried to do the right thing. I baked whole grain muffins and cookies made with peanut butter, oatmeal and raisins. For my efforts, I received a note from the teacher chastising me for not sending prepackaged items. The lesson learned here: If it’s dated for spoilage in the year 2000, it’s OK for the kiddies.
Snack if you must, but I’ll take broccoli over pork rinds any day.
More to Read
Eat your way across L.A.
Get our weekly Tasting Notes newsletter for reviews, news and more.
You may occasionally receive promotional content from the Los Angeles Times.