Evil Incarnate

My friend Irma and I like to use the term 'evil.' It sometimes startles people to hear us use the term. We use it to mean that something has a hold over us, we are powerless over it, and it must be destroyed. As in, "those big, flourless chocolate cookies from Central Market are evil. They must be destroyed." Translation: "I can't stop eating these cookies. Who made them? Where can I buy more?"

Today, I realized there exists a true incarnation of evil in my life: mass produced Mexican cookies. Here is the problem with Mexican cookies. They are a unholy alliance of two things that I love: cookies, and candies. Mexican cookies are often brightly, ambitiously rendered. It's not just a cookie. No, it's a flat cookie, with four marshamallow's crammed on top PLUS colorful candy sprinkles. My favorite brand of Mexican cookie, Gamesa, has this down to an art. I don't know what they put in their cookies, but there's always this lingering taste left of something more. You eat one, and it's as if the sweet taste has only lasted for one brief, shining moment. You eat another, just to get that bland, sugary taste back in your mouth.

Gamesa used to rock, especially their variety packs. But then they got bought out by some big conglomerate like Pesi or Nestle or something, and they started reducing the variety in the pack, shrink wrapping them, and also—heaven forbid—introduced the chocolate chip cookie into the mix. They just couldn't leave well enough alone. They wanted to appeal to white America, too.

But white America already has their cookie classics, like the Oreo. Can't we just accept each other for what we are? Gamesa, take out the chocolate chip and put back the hard lemon zinger thingies. Really, I think this is the dark side of multiculuralism.

But as always, I digress. The good news is that today I noticed that there were more brands than my beloved Gamesa. There was also a brand called Bimbo, which looked highly promising. I'll have to check it out the next time I'm there.