By Editor Kym Byrnes
There are many things to love about spring in Maryland — warmer weather, longer days, open-toed shoes, blooming flowers, chirping birds, and plenty more of that good stuff.
And then there’s Easter.
I’m not a religious person when it comes to the holiday. But my excitement is reserved for something that appears on grocery store shelves this time of year — something colorful, questionably textured and the subject of intense debates.
Peeps.
Yes, I’m talking about the marshmallow candy with the crunchy sugar coating, shaped like a chick or bunny, that half the population seems to loathe. I’ve had people look me in the eye and ask, “Who even eats those things?” I do — enthusiastically, I might add.
And I don’t just eat them. I have opinions about them. The fresh ones? Overrated. The trick is to let them sit out for a day or two until they achieve that perfect balance of stale and crunchy. I eat so many leading up to Easter that by the time the actual holiday rolls around, I’m in a full-blown sugar coma and can’t even look at another one.
I consider myself a Peeps purist. I’m happy with classic shapes, colors and flavors — just give me a pink or purple bunny. Every year, some new Frankenstein Peeps hit the shelves (Dr. Pepper-flavored Peeps? Rice Krispie-flavored? Really?). While I have zero interest in tainting my beloved marshmallow treats, I tried the cotton candy version… and I regret nothing.
Peeps must be doing something right because Just Born, the Bethlehem, Pennsylvania-based company that makes them, keeps expanding the lineup. They’ve infiltrated Halloween (orange pumpkins and white ghosts), Christmas (green trees and red stockings), and probably the Fourth of July. While I respect the diversity of the holidays, nothing beats the OG Easter Peeps.
Locally, the Carroll Arts Council has taken Peeps love to another level with its annual PEEPshow fundraiser, where people turn these sugary creatures into elaborate works of art. It’s festive, fun and mildly frustrating because I spend the whole time wanting to eat the artwork.
I don’t know why Peeps have such a hold on me. Maybe it’s nostalgia. My mom loved them; they remind me of springtime as a child. Maybe it’s because my son won’t touch them, meaning they are one of the few treats in my house that are safe from his sticky fingers.
The next time you see me at the store casually tossing a box or seven of Peeps into my cart, don’t judge. Just know that behind my sensible exterior, there’s a woman who refuses to let go of the simple, sugary joys of childhood.
Peeps forever, my friends. Peeps forever.
Cheers!
Kym Byrnes
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