1) Mixed news about my in-laws’ dog, Jody. She made it through surgery like a trooper, and all seemed well until Tuesday night. She didn’t turn for the worse, but we did get some bad news from the doctor. The tests indicated that she has blood cancer, the worst kind anyone could get. All types of cancer are awful, but the kind that affects blood can reach all organs faster and more maliciously. Her spleen was the first to go. Next, it could be her heart, her lungs, or anything irreplaceable.

My in-laws are upset–I was devastated when my cat, Pepper, was diagnosed with renal failure–but I wish my mom-in-law wasn’t “doom and gloom” about it. The holidays are a difficult time for her, what with her grandmother and parents dying in December (over the span of a decade). Only today did she get the idea to encourage Jody to be strong. She had the right to be upset, but she was practically grieving for her still-alive companion.

Jody goes to an oncologist Monday for additional tests. Right now, all we know is that her type of cancer can significantly shorten her life; she could go a few months to half a year, even with chemo. As with all illnesses, there’s a chance of remission. Maybe a miracle. It’s almost how it was with Pepper, except I knew that the renal failure would end her life; she was over 15 when I got the news. But we had two more years together. It still wasn’t enough time, but it was time well spent.

We’re hoping that this isn’t Jody’s last Christmas, but we’re going to make it the best.

2) I’d hate to end this post on a bittersweet note, so let me tell you guys about a new favorite blog of mine. Anyone who’s followed the Monkey Island franchise for a number of years is familiar with the name Dominic Armato. For those of you who don’t know, he’s the voice of Guybrush Threepwood and food enthusiast. It’s almost hard to think of celebrities and voice actors as having interests outside their professions, but Dom has nurtured a lifelong love affair with meals, snacks, appetizers, ingredients… well, anything that can go in one’s belly.

Food blogs are kind of a bore to read, to be honest. Too many pretentious types who think they know the right way to roast chicken, or who won’t sample anything from a fast food joint. Not Dom. He enjoys the occasional five-star dish, but he loves sloppy, juicy sandwiches all the same. His love doesn’t know the definition of “limitations.” He isn’t above buying a basket of fries. That’s what I like in a foodie. Best of all, he can cook, and he likes to share his forays and recipes.

What’s more fun is sharing some posts with my husband (my boning knife-speared, steam-logged, mandolin-scarred veteran of the food industry) and getting his input. I like testing Kevin’s knowledge and seeing if he agrees with another cook on techniques or preparation. He has a degree and was trained by chefs (one a baking/pastry master) from around the world, so I like to see if any pretentious “that isn’t how it’s done!” attitude will bubble past the laid back veneer. For the most part, both Kevin and Dom are on the same page as far as pasta is concerned, though Kevin did learn that one is supposed to finish pasta in the sauce. I’m tempted to get him to experiment.

Skillet Doux is one of those blogs that might change my life… or at least my eating habits. Which, I guess, will change my life… you know what I mean. Every outing to an eating establishment will be treated as an adventure and a learning experience. So feed your inner foodie and bookmark this blog! (Fair warning: Read on a full stomach or at least with a sandwich nearby. Extra Happy Fun Time Tip: Prepare pasta the Dominic way and put in a full night of Monkey Island. See if you can juggle game controls and a loaded fork!)

If it’s not Newfoundland recipes, it’s Newfoundlanders. You’ll find out more tomorrow. But suffice it to say, some of these meals look fantastic. Too bad there aren’t moose in North Carolina. I’d bag one and chop it into a stew.

Here, take a look.

Even the moose heart sounds delicious… but I think I’ll try the figgy duff before devouring organs that usually don’t wind up on my plate.

And all I have are Munchos and Slim Jims. Damn.

(Thus ends the worst analogy ever written.)

Foot-long nougat and taffy candy, waxy lollipops, cinnamon-coated peanuts, greasy cheesy puffs–if you can think of it, it’s probably been in the dollar store snack aisle. And this aisle is home to dozens and dozens of gummies, some that sadly never see the florescent light of a grocery store.

I consider myself a gummy connoisseur. Okay, maybe more of a dilettante. But I’ve tried a variety of gummies over the years. Frogs, sharks, brains, chicken feet, teeth and gums, burgers, fries, sodas, hot dogs, and realistically colored rats… I’ve even sampled “gummy kits,” which allow gummy fanatics to construct their own sweet and chewy pizzas or cookies. If it’s a gummy and reasonably edible, I’ll eat it. (But Swedish Fish to me is like garlic to a vampire. They’re just nasty.)

So I had to try these. Now, I’d mentioned in my last article that popcorn shouldn’t exist in ice cream. That’s only because it doesn’t taste right in that form. As a gummy, popcorn isn’t terribly bad.

It’s weird, but it’s not bad.

And if it tastes like popcorn, all the better.

You’ll notice that there are four different flavors to “guess” from. You’ll also notice that the company recommend the candy for kids ages 4 and up. After reading the next few paragraphs, you’ll be debating the touchy issue of subtle child abuse.

Everyone who’s ever eaten candy knows what apple, watermelon, and strawberry taste like. That’s right: fake. But I couldn’t detect any of the fruit flavors. It was impossible. There probably was never any artificial fruit flavor in these gummy clusters, because all I could taste was sweaty socks.

No one with even a fiber of gray matter would stick an old, sweat-drenched sock in their mouth… unless they were desperate for money. But smell one. Get the soppiest, moldiest, gag-inducing sock you can find–preferably one recently worn by a football player who’d been training for eight hours on the field on a broiling summer day–and smell with your mouth partially open. You will taste it. Damn, you can feel the fumes rising to your palate. Shutting your mouth as the taste pierces your tastebuds won’t do any good; it’ll just smash the odor-taste further into your tongue.

That’s what eating these allegedly fruity kernels was like. Hell, the aforementioned gummy rats tasted like fruit! The popcorn-flavored kernels were a welcome respite, though. They even tasted just like popcorn, albeit air-popped and lightly buttered. Almost therapeutic after having my mouth ravaged.

But to get to both of these charming flavors, you have to get past the sour crystals. I guess they’re supposed to resemble salt (gummy fries have these sour crystals), but, really, it’s hard to enjoy a gummy when your eyelids are squeezing your eyes back into your skull… and when memories of the locker room after gym class are flooding your brain and mouth.

Still, this was a unique experience. Not mind-blowing, but certainly taste buds-blowing. If you see these suckers in a store, try them out. You just might regret it.

But it’s never easy to decide. You got your singular flavors, plain yet illustrious: vanilla and chocolate. Then you got the chunky ones, each flavor with a mouthful of crunchy or chewy treasures: mint chocolate chip, strawberry, and cherry. Then we have our adventurous forays, each one promising a grand experience for the palate: birthday cake, fried ice cream, lemon creme pie, and so many more. It’s impossible to ignore the calls to the frozen desserts aisle, and I must scour the displays. Even just seeing the different flavors can be enough to satisfy the cravings, if only for a short while.

But there are times when I must try a flavor to indulge my curiosity–and there are times when it feels like I’m punishing it at the same time.

Yes, taking up half a carton while befriending vanilla ice cream with caramel pieces is a new, daring flavor: popcorn, with candy-coated popcorn pieces and praline peanuts. Personally, I believe that puffed-up corn kernels shouldn’t be frozen, mixed into dairy products, or manipulated into a creamy substance.

That’s what I thought of the concept. The taste is another matter altogether.

It was nothing short of odd. No, peculiar. No… incongruous. I couldn’t tell if the popcorn pieces had been candied. The coating probably dissolved in the ice cream. Not that it mattered, since every time I bit down on a piece, I had the unsettling feeling that someone had chewed up and spat popcorn into my ice cream. Shades of family movie night pranks…

Take out the popcorn pieces, and you might have a winning flavor on your hands. Otherwise, every mouthful just leaves you wondering if someone’s spit is mingling with yours.

By the way, the caramel for the plain vanilla tasted burnt. It did nothing to wash down the popcorn stuff. I should have tried rocky road.