

As a rule, I don’t purchase pretzels of any kind.
Yes, I‘ve said sayonara to the matchsticks; so long to the Philly softs, and adios to all varieties of Snyder's of Hanover. And as long as I'm being honest, I haven’t stopped by to visit Auntie Anne in ages - I’m a terrible niece!
It’s not that I’m morally against pretzels, because I’m not. As a matter of fact, some of my fondest food memories involve pretzels.
When I was very little girl and it was time to buy new school shoes, my mother would take me to Fischer’s Shoes in Margate. It was in that very store that I began my love affair with footwear and my appreciation for pretzels. After deciding on my new school shoes (which literally took hours), Mr. Fischer himself would give me (and every other kid) a pretzel rod with mustard.
New shoes and a pretzel with mustard, who could ask for anything more?
When I was young, my sister Debbie introduced me to the epicurean delight of Philadelphia Cream Cheese smeared on top of a Snyder’s Sour Dough Hard Pretzel - DELICIOUS.
When I was in High School, Auntie Anne's Pretzels became an integral part of my teenage mall experience.
After I graduated college and went to Europe, I was introduced to Nutella’s magic and brought a jar home with me. It was then that I discovered the shear joy of dipping a matchstick pretzel in Nutella and peanut butter – it was literally the pretzel version of heaven!
Don’t even get me started on the delights of dark chocolate covered pretzels made with sprinkles & coconut. And those Utz’s Extra Darks – they have the ability to ROCK my world and always leave me wanting more.
But for some reason, pretzels HATE ME, which sucks, because I love them. It’s a textbook example of a love/hate relationship.
Pretzels require a lot of work and attention (at least on my part), not to mention a hell of a huge bolus for a minuscule serving size.
And I always want more than the serving size suggests and almost always end up eating more than I should.
So I don’t buy them, EVER.
But on occasion I indulge, especially if I’m on the beach and my friend brings them for her kids. But even then, I make sure I swim and test a lot to counter act the uber carbs.
And even with all the work it’s still a diabetes crapshoot! I'm left either feeling fantastical or horrific- and always wanting more.
What foods have you said “Sayonara” to and why, and on what occasions do you indulge and say "screw it?"
And PLEASE don't let me be the only one with forbidden food desire, because right about now, I’m feeling a pretty silly about my pretzel lust.
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