Did I ever tell you that the first time I was ever moved to comment on The Root, before all the talent deserted, but this one comment got me elevated into the black, there was this story about an ice cream truck. A (this was so many years ago) childless white woman who moved into a predominantly Black neighborhood, which is within walking distance of my own, took to social media about the noise generated by the ice cream truck and the clientele it attracted. My comment was: “When I was growing up the ice cream truck used to park next door, at my elementary school, but then someone decided that that wasn’t appropriate, so my father said, ‘Park in front of my lawn.'” I added, “Let the ice cream truck park in my living room if it wants to. I really miss it, all these years later.”
The best thing about this was that I (actually my older siblings) were instantly awarded hero status. All the kids would hang out. The Dads would bring over coolers of beers and they’d be shared liberally, even to me, as a joke. The Moms would get together and chain smoke, even the pregnant ones, I remember this vividly, but it was all fun. My mother didn’t drink, but she smoked liked a chimney, even through her pregnancy with me, and I turned out to grow to 6’ 4” tall. Not a bad way to spend the dog days of August when there were few other entertainment options available.
Would you like to revisit suburban America circa 1972 but don’t have an ice cream truck nearby? Do what I did over the weekend.
1 box (14.1 oz) refrigerated Pillsbury™ Pie Crusts (2 Count), softened as directed on box
2 boxes (3 oz each) Jell-O™ orange-flavored gelatin
1/3 cup boiling water
2 boxes (3.4 oz each) Jell-O™ vanilla-flavor instant pudding & pie filling mix
2 cups cold milk
1 container (12 oz) Cool Whip frozen whipped topping, thawed
1 1/2 cups chopped Golden Oreo cookies (about 12 cookies)
1 tablespoon orange and white candy sprinkles [Needless to say these are not found anywhere near me and I was not about to order these online just to prove a point.]
Heat oven to 450°F. Remove crusts from pouches. On lightly floured surface, unroll and stack crusts one on top of the other. Roll to 17×12-inch rectangle. Fit crust into ungreased 15x10x1-inch pan, pressing firmly into corners and sides. Fold extra crust under, even with edges of pan. Using fork, prick all over bottom and sides.
Bake 10 to 12 minutes or until golden brown and completely baked. Cool completely on cooling rack, about 15 minutes.
In small bowl, add gelatin and boiling water; stir occasionally 2 minutes. Set aside. In large bowl, beat dry pudding mixes and milk with whisk about 2 minutes or until thick. Beat in dissolved gelatin mixture with whisk until well mixed. Let stand 5 minutes. Stir in 1 cup of the whipped topping.
Spread pudding mixture evenly onto cooled baked crust. Drop spoonfuls of remaining whipped topping (about 3 cups) on pudding layer, and carefully spread to cover. Refrigerate at least 4 hours until set.
Before serving, top with cookies and candy sprinkles. To serve, cut into 4 rows by 4 rows.
You had me at “top with cookies and candy sprinkles”.
Those Golden Oreos are the best. They’re super-addictive. I don’t think I had my first one until I was like 25 and Better Half and I were in San Francisco and we stopped in at a Safeway. Although no, that was probably West Hollywood. Or maybe Studio City. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Golden Oreos are your best friend and your waistline’s worst enemy.
I’m gonna save myself a few steps and just eat a box of Golden Oreos.
Oh, but then you’d be missing the best part, which is the Pillsbury crust, the orange Jell-O™, the vanilla pudding, and Cool Whip. I cannot tell you how much fun I had making this.
BH was with me, as was Faithful Hound, of course, and my oversized glass of bargain basement pinot grigio. I made BH play a song for me. I’m not the dancer I once was, but he still is, and so is the dog, and because this recipe felt so 1950s to me we all danced around to this:
This is jitterbugging, by the way. This wasn’t invented with rock ‘n roll. These young people are doing dance moves that might have been done at their parents’ wedding receptions.
Goddamn those Golden Oreos really are the best. Way better than the standard Oreos.
I was in and out of the black seven or eight times on the old G/O site. Never figured out what I did to get elevated; never figured out what I did to get busted.
I know what I did. My MacMini hard drive died so I lost everything. I had backed up a lot of stuff (not to the cloud, that seems very Skynet, but to an external hard drive) but not my usernames and passwords. I tried to contact them and was like, “Hi, I’m Cousin Mattie, my username is—” Silence. I can’t remember if this was before or after the Dollar Store-level sale to Get/Out Media. After, I guess it must have been.
I was lucky as I had it all (gold stars, black, etc) except for being kicked off Deadspin during the AJ Dalerio era. Also was friendly with Charlie at io9 so if I had problems I could go to her and get reinstated.
I still miss a lot of the top shelf commenters.
@MatthewCrawley an article about a German meat hedgehog for parties; of course, I thought of you!
I actually have had a Mettigel. There’s a funny tradition in Germany, where you get engaged, but you don’t have an engagement party, you have a…it’s very difficult to describe. It’s kind of like a dual bachelor/bachelorette party, I guess? Anyway, I’ve been to a couple, and they’re great occasions for gag gifts and foods, and German cuisine can be a little tough to begin with, and the 1001 liqueurs that they’re capable of producing.
I just remember that the two I went to, I lost the ability to speak English or German, but both times I got very gracious notes thanking me for coming. Once again, I don’t mean to indulge in gross stereotypes, but Germans aren’t the best dancers. They’re kind of clunky and stompy. They also (the younger ones, anyway) prefer this hard rock/thrash metal/I don’t know how you’d describe it that would be pretty difficult to dance to, even if you knew what it was. So I used to request or put on American pop tunes and New Wave and pick the most beautiful woman and ask her to dance with me.
Früher war es anders.