A Childhood Tale of Woe & French Toast

Here comes another not-so-recipe oriented post. I’m not a dessert person so at this point you won’t see many sweet recipes on Simply in the Flavor. You might wonder why my cover photo is of french toast – well I’ll be honest. The photo looked good. And, I served the french toast with plain Greek yogurt, which cut down on the overall sweetness. All of this said, I’d like to share with you why I believe I am not a dessert person.

As a child, I was denied a Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe, which to this day still haunts me. I was a little Jewish kid attending pre-school at “The Big Yellow Church”. During the holiday season when Santa arrived, I had butterflies in my stomach. I had been pleading with my parents for a Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe set for Hanukkah and was told it was not going to happen. I had previously begged them for an Easy-Bake Oven for my 4th birthday which I received, used once and forgot about. Mom was confident the Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe would become the same dust collector that the Easy-Bake had turned into. But the Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe was so different! I could actually make REAL ice cream. That Easy-Bake Oven was a sham. All that work for one tiny bite of cake? Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe promised generous portions for all. I could invite my friends over and serve them delicious ice cream, all while we hung out with Barbie and Ken. I would be a pal and serve up creamy cones to my brother and his friends. I could even make the ice cream and sell it. How did my parents not see this as a profitable investment? So as you can imagine, I had misgivings about owning up to not being Christian to Santa. He was my only hope for getting the Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe into the house.

As it was my turn to sit on Santa’s lap I almost didn’t tell him about being Jewish. However, I figured he would be pretty ticked if he showed up at my house on Christmas Eve and not only was there no Christmas tree to put the gifts under, but no milk and cookies as well. When I approached Santa he scooped me up and put me in his lap. He told me I had beautiful hair (which was a bold faced lie, but I appreciated Santa’s effort to make me feel good).

My hair that Santa found attractive. He was kind enough not to comment on my chapped lips. Clearly my aversion to sweets had not started yet in this photo as I had yet to be denied my ice cream machine. Also, it's clearly the 80's.

My hair that Santa found attractive. He was kind enough not to comment on my chapped lips. Clearly my aversion to sweets had not started yet in this photo as I had yet to be denied my ice cream machine. Also, it’s clearly the 80’s.

I looked Santa in the eye and said, “I need to be honest with you. I’m Jewish.” I held my breath. My heart pounded so loudly I heard it in my ears. Did I just ruin all chances of getting the Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe? Well, that Santa Claus was just as nice as he could be about the whole Jewish thing. He assured me that it was OK and I could still tell him what I wanted him to bring me. I was ecstatic. I was going to get that Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe and there was NOTHING Mom and Dad could do to stop me. He assured me that if I told my mom and dad what I wanted that during Hanukkah it would be there, but it would indeed be from Santa. That Santa was such a pal! He was even willing to travel on his time off for little ol’ me. So, I went home and with one last ditch effort told Mom that I wanted the Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe.  “Not gonna happen, tootsie.”  Little did she know that I already had something in the works with Mr. Claus.  With some sass, I put my hand on my hip and said, “Well I guess we will just have to see what happens.”  Needless to say, on the 8th night of Hanukkah when my Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe still had not arrived I felt I had been tricked by Old St. Nick.  I swore I would never again sit on his lap, but the next time I saw him we would have words.  I was brokenhearted and still to this day consider ordering a Barbie Ice Cream Shoppe off of the internet. But now a days they run about $230 and are “vintage” toys.

I'll never know if it's really the coolest place in town.

I’ll never know if it’s really the coolest place in town.

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One thought on “A Childhood Tale of Woe & French Toast

  1. Pingback: I Love School Cafeteria Food – There. I said it. | Simply in the Flavor

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