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Eating Peeps:
Everyone seems to have their own special way of eating peeps...
FIRST PRIZE
andiamo:
Today, Easter Sunday, we arranged four colors of Peeps in a circle, poured some brandy in the middle and, voila! - served Peeps Flambe! They were actually good, and we have some great photos right here.
HONORABLE MENTIONS
gwynplain:
Le Peep Gourmand
To the unenlightened palate, a peep may appear as nothing more than
a gelatinous blob of marshmallow encrusted with sugar granules of a color
far brighter and more saturated than anything found in nature. But to a
connoisseur such as myself, a plain Peep is like a raw cut of fine meat,
waiting to be seasoned, cooked, and prepared as an epicurean delicacy.
Don't get me wrong- I love the pure Peep as much as anyone- right out of
the box, by the handful- the carcass sucked free of sugar, tenderized with
the tongue, and swallowed like an oyster- but there are so many other ways
to eat a Peep.
First there's the texture. Allow a Peep to stand unwrapped for a
few hours and it yields a chewier, heartier experience to the mouth. For
a cool, refreshing change- refridgerate. For a real jaw workout- freeze.
And if you prefer a warm, melt-in-your-mouth sensation- pop of few of the
little marshmallow fellows into the microwave and watch as they bloat,
expand, and topple over onto their sides- then eat quickly before they
start to harden (but be careful not to burn yourself). This can also be a
good way to entertain the kids while they wait for their nutritious snack.
But a Peep need not stand alone. One of my favorite ways to eat
the glucose critters is to stuff an M&M; into the soft underbelly and stick
the whole mess in my mouth. This way you get a three-phase,
tongue-titilating experience- the gooey Peep, the crunchy candy shell, and
climaxing in rich chocolate bliss. An oral-gasm if there ever was one.
Float them in hot cocoa. Drown them in chocolate milk and blend
them briefly for a chunky, mucus-like Peep shake. The possibilties are
endless upon endless. Beseech the Peep.
JulieBean7:
I cannot stand these little sugary marshmallowey things. It's all because of my aunt...
Once upon a time, young children were subjected to Peep torture. As Easter would roll around, my brother and I would cower in fear. Aunt Marie was sure to have stockpiled the Peeps. She was positive that we loved them. We'd beg and plead, promising to be good forever... "Just no Peeps". Every year, it was the same. Dressed in our best, shined up and sparkling, we'd sit on the couch. "Would you like a Peep? I bought them just for you." Now, being the well behaved children that we were, we couldn't refuse, especially since they'd been purchased JUST for us. We choked them down, their chocolate eyes begging for mercy. They seemed to grow and multiply in our mouths as we continued to chew. Once the hell ended, my brother and I made a pact: next year, we'd boycott. "No Peeps for us, thank you." Every year it was the same. By the time I was 14, and I had consumed my weight in those plastic-like creatures, we stopped going to Aunt Marie's for Easter. I haven't touched one since, and the sight of them makes me nauseous. In fact, it has become a joke among my friends and family, and each Easter, someone manages to slip one into my coat, bag, or even Easter basket. It's not funny anymore...but I manage to pay the world back. At last, I can send Peeps to my friends, and they can't eat them. Tripod has the only acceptable use for Peeps (apart from keychains, but I haven't perfected that yet).
elroyj:
I can't see a peep without thinking of those grand days when I was just a tyke, when my family would gather 'round the open fire pit and roast Peeps, their sugar coating carmelizing before our very eyes.
Sometimes my brother Josh would hold the doomed but spongy foul over the heat a little too long, and the poor little yellow bird would itself catch fire, a flaming but sweet torch brightening our happy faces.
Dad would be especially daring, placing not just one or two, but as many as three peeps - sometimes alternating pink and lavender - on the cold metal skewar. Little Suzy would smile as their plump bodies were pierced like so many urban teenagers tongues.
Alas, the last box opened and consumed, our Easter Eve festivities came to a close, and we were left only with our memories and anticipation for Easter morning, when we would celebrate the Easter Bunnies cruxificion and eventual rise from the dead.
F00D:
About 2 years ago me and my sister got Peeps for Easter and our dad put them away and 3 months later we finaly remembered ,but they had gotton stale. Me being the brave one decided to eat one(rock hard).
It tasted so good that we gave it a name: "staling". This soon became a neighborhood Fad and every Easter we get peeps and put them away for a month or two till they're rock hard and enjoy em'.
PTL:
While at a cabin during spring break, purchased some peeps. My favorite holiday candy; for I am not a chocolate lover and was raised on the sugar highs. As a torture to me, some of my friends suggested throwing the peeps into the fire (What a big mistake that suggestion was). Remembering the I didn't have peeps last year, I grew rather fond of the purple bunnies and pink chicks. I slid a purple bunny onto a bar-b-que stick and stuck that marshmellow into the flames. It was the greatest thing, the ears began to expand and grow as large as the bunnies body. The face shmeared all over the front, and the entire thing began to grow bigger and bigger. I took it out and pulled it off the stick. The outer sugar coating did not melt, and when I split the thing into two, gooey marshmellow came out. I proceeded to eat the best ppep I have ever tasted, best marshmellow in fact. The sugar caoting on the outside kept the liquid hot marshmellow inside, and kept my fingers from being so sticky. Whe I put the chicks into the fire, their bottoms expanded to the point that they needed lyposuction badly, so I opened them up and sucked out all the marshmellow. The sugar stayed intact as the insides were gone. It's the funnest and best way to eat peeps. I wish they were around during the summer when my family goes camping. I would rather roast a peeps bottom than a marshmallow any day.
LaRueski:
I thought it was only only my family that had a peeps tradition. So much so, in fact, that we kept our peep-eating habit in the closet. Every year, the weekend before Passover, my father would gleefully stock up the peeps cupboard. The night before first seder, we'd lower the windowshades, open up the first package and start pulling those suckers apart. There were two schools of eating technique: the weenies, who would simply bite daintily from head to foot, and the macho peepeaters, who would smoosh and flatten each little guy between their palms until it was a two-dimensional, Wiley Coyote version of its former self, then shove the whole thing into the mouth and chew, chew, chew. Yellow tongues and fingertips were badges of honor. I have carried this tradition on into the end of the millenium, and each year, while opening the first package of chicks, I toast my dear departed father and promise to pass the torch to the peepmesiters of the 21st century! If he could only be here to see the new blue and purple chicks....
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