Monday, December 28, 2009

My Newest Vice

Today, in order to kill some time while waiting for the #1 son's basketball practice to end, I stopped at Walgreens. I don't normally go in there except at Christmastime, to see what odd seasonal candy might be found to surprise my offspring. Today, I was looking for some leftover fruitcake. Yes. I confess. I looooves me some fruitcake. Not a lot of it. Not the big round kind in a tin. The rectangular long kind that can be sliced into small squares. A little fruitcake goes a long way.

I don't normally buy fruitcake for myself. My mom gave me some that came in a fruit basket that the masons always give her at Christmas. Thank the Gummi Mary, my dad belonged to three different lodges. Now I get a fruitcake at Christmas.

But Walgreens had no fruitcake. They did have THIS:

It is fantastic! I have not had black licorice since when I was pregnant with The Pony. Nobody told me that black licorice raises your blood pressure. The doctor was a bit concerned with my blood pressure one visit, and made me lay on an exam table until it went down. That evening, I happened to read somewhere about this mysterious licorice property. I stopped eating it, and VOILA, my blood pressure went back to normal (until I became aged). Anyhoo, I have stayed away from this childhood favorite until now.

Last week, when I made my regular six-month check-up visit with Doc, he said that he's going to lower my blood pressure meds. Since I haven't refilled the prescription yet, I figured that now is as good a time as any to consume my dear old friend, black licorice. Or as this package proclaims, Licorice Black. Walgreens also had the strawberry flavor. It does not affect blood pressure, as far as I know. If I had been aware of how fresh and tasty this brand would be, I would have also invested in the strawberry kind.

Mmm...mmm...mmm. Licorice Black. The smell when I opened the package was heavenly. I am rationing it until I get that prescription refilled. No need to go hog wild.

In case you can't read the package, it says: Lucky Country Aussie Style Soft Gourmet Licorice Black. And it's 97% fat free! Just sayin'...

These chunks are the twisty shape, but they are solid, not hollow. And they are OH SO FRESH and squishy when you squeeze them. Delicious.

Maybe next week I will run across some delectable liver-and-onions!


Kathy's Klothesline said...

I will have to go to Walgreens tomorrow just to get some! I love licorice. My favorite red is red vines. I like to leave the bag open and let it get a little staleso that it is chewier. I have to go to the DR tomorrow. I hate that I will have to weigh and be told that I need to take better care of myself. I can't seem to get my asthma under control. Had the same problem last winter. I swear this house s trying to kill me!

JustLinda said...

Fruitcake and black licorice? Really?

I may have to re-think my homage to your wonderful taste... Ahem.

Stewed Hamm said...

I would have guessed (assuming some crazed guess-forcer was out there forcing people to make random guesses about things) that you would shore up your Hillbilly cred by going with horehound candy. Of course, you'd secretly go for something that real people eat... which is not black licorice. Just sayin.

Word Verification: uploge. What my stomach tries to do if I ever eat black licorice.

Hillbilly Mom said...

Hope you find that licorice. Maybe your doctor visit will have a little happy accident like mine. The nurse weighed me on that old-fashioned scale with the metal weight thingies. It was 16 pounds lower than my actual weight. She must have forgotten to slide that bottom thingy back to zero.

We shan't be judging other people on taste, now shall we? Because I seem to remember something about some sensational type of footwear that just might have been judged as kinky around these here parts. ;)

More black licorice for me! You and Linda can badmouth my tastes until the cows come home, but I will laugh the last laugh with black spittle flying from the corners of my mouth, my eyes bugged out in a hypertensive fit of glee.