If I were able, I would demand that my childhood taste bud numbers be restored, they having been dwindling for the past 30 years.
I have recently learned that the number of taste buds one has starts decreasing between the ages of 40 and 50, and those that remain shrink. After the age of 60, one begins to lose the ability to distinguish tastes of sweet, salty, sour or bitter.
Documentation for the years from 60 and up was sketchy. But the fact remains, my food just doesn’t taste the same as when I ate with childish buds.
Knowing this scientific information, however, does not change the fact that the Popsicles of today are a mere distant relative to the Popsicles of my childhood. I don’t care how old I am: Popsicles just don’t taste the same as they did several decades ago.
What hasn’t changed from child to adult is the comfort one receives from a Popsicle when one is ill with a cold, a sore throat, maybe a tummy ache. The cure from the Parent was an orange Popsicle — so tart, so cold, so gooey as it melted. The cure seven years ago from a kindly nurse seeing my face at uncovering cream of wheat for breakfast was an orange Popsicle — so tart, so cold but a bit different. Still a familiar cure for an adult with child-like tendencies.
And so when my stomach recently recoiled and popped around like waves in the ocean, my self-administered cure was nothing else but stale Ginger Ale and an orange Popsicle. Housemate immediately went to the store and came home with a variety pack of orange, berry and grape flavours.
The cardboard packaging confirmed the contents as being Popsicles but the taste buds could not substantiate that identity. Orange Popsicles never, ever were attached to grape or berry. Orange went with orange, and grape with grape and so on and so on. There was no goo residue left in the package as though the frozen treat was on the verge of melting. In fact the Popsicle didn’t melt as soon as the warmth of my mouth made contact. What the heck?
But the coldness of orange-flavoured water soothed my throat and even if it had no medicinal benefit, I felt better for a moment or two.
After receiving more reliable medicinal treatment from a score of professionals, I was back at home eating my apple sauce and Jello and yearning for something else to comfort my old body. Housemate offered to bring a Popsicle. It was grape purple, but then again, it didn’t seem like grape. Those darn taste buds again. An orange one followed and as hard as I tried to convert the 1950s taste to this century, it just didn’t work.
I wonder what Frank Epperson, the creator of the original Popsicle would say if he could compare his product with the product on the market today. He would surely be disappointed and long for the old days, or at least for the days when taste buds could tell original orange from the revised orange.
Did you know the favourite Popsicle flavour is cherry? I found that out doing my research. Nope, don’t agree. And did you know that May 27 is National Grape Popsicle Day and Aug. 26 is National Cherry Popsicle Day? You do now.
I wonder if any corner store still sells chocolate Popsicles, in the double stick format? They were hard to find years ago but what a pleasant surprise if they are still available.
More good news: a Popsicle website shows all the crafts to be made with the sticks, and there’s even an area of kids’ jokes to enjoy while the Popsicle orange juice runs down the chin.
I didn’t tell Housemate about the joke site, but instead I will share all the grape and berry flavours with him. What a tasteful gesture!
Joyce Walter can be reached at [email protected]
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect the position of this publication.
