Bag O' Bark

I recently drifted into that no-man’s-land known as Impulse Buy.

While in the supermarket checkout line, I spied some pretzel-like treats in a nostalgia-infused, quaint bag. "Okay," I thought. "I'll bite."



Sadly, I sampled the honey wheat braided twists and judged them to be repurposed driftwood -- or, on their best day, Graham Crackers from some 1830's time capsule arriving in my hand a few decades short of their bicentennial mark. Dust from the floor of a frontier cabin has more flavor.

In an effort to save my investment, I jabbed one into a peanut butter jar, and it tasted pretty good. But, really, then it just becomes a mechanism to deliver peanut butter to my mouth.