My quest for chocolate Popsicles and my search for the perfect grilled cheese sandwich has occupied some of my time — successfully and not so successfully — during the spring and summer weeks.
It turns out I am not the only person with a fixation on the Popsicles of our youth, searching wherever there’s a freezer in a store for the no-so-easy-to-find frozen treats of olden days.
I’ve had phone calls from friends and others who found or had heard about chocolate Popsicles in various Moose Jaw outlets. I followed up with calls or personal visits, with mostly disappointing results. Now I understand how investigators feel when leads wither and die without a successful conclusion.
In one instance, the kindly young man at the store was sympathetic to my quest, noting others were also seeking the same product. He explained that getting chocolate Popsicles from his regular supplier was a problem and finding a new and reliable source had been impossible. But, he said, he would keep trying so please come in again to check out his store’s freezer. To thank him for his assistance, Housemate bought himself a treat.
Then I went to my favourite confectionery store, it being a one-stop shop for treats, food items, clean wash, rental trailers and other odds and ends. While others lined up at the Snow Hut for ice cream and milkshakes, I rummaged through the cooler where the frozen treats were kept.
I foraged and dug around and came up with what I hoped were indeed chocolate Popsicles. They were in a single package, with no identifying label but to my discerning eye they looked like chocolate. I grabbed up five or six and headed to the checkout, first to verify my finding, and then to pay for my treat. The store owner confirmed my discovery, I paid and went with exuberance to the car, the smile on my face as broad as though I had won the lottery.
They were as tasty as I remembered, with chocolate dripping down my chin and Housemate rushing to clean a spot from his shirt. I shared my discovery with others so they too could relive their happy summers of decades ago. But I have some hidden away in a crevice in the freezer. Such bliss for a later day!
My continuing quest for the best grilled cheese has not been as successful as last year and in fact has been disappointing, although it has resulted in an unusual style of sandwich.
At the restaurant where we had dined previously, the owners had changed and the menu was also different but under the kids’ menu, I found a grilled cheese sandwich with fries. I asked the server how old one had to be to be considered a “kid.”
He looked at me in bewilderment so I asked again, then changed the question to whether I could order from the kids’ menu. He nodded and explained it was just bread with cheese. That should have warned me, but my adventurous soul soldiered on.
The bewilderment became mine and spread to my companions when the plate of fries and sandwich was placed before me. Never before had I seen a grilled cheese presented this way: partially melted cheese on top of a slice of bread which in turn was atop some more partially melted cheese on another slice of non-grilled bread.
I laughed; my companions laughed; phone photos were taken and I dug into my non-grilled cheese sandwich. The potatoes were deep-fried nicely and the others at the table enjoyed their burgers while I ate away at this sandwich from the kids’ menu.
A youngster at another table didn’t seem to see anything odd about his grilled cheese so maybe I was at fault, not knowing the traditional way of serving it in this eating place.
Soon, I will be off to Sue and Mike’s place where the grilled cheese will indeed be grilled cheese just the way I like it.
Joyce Walter can be reached at ronjoy@sasktel.net
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
