If you dare...

My dad loves to tell a story about me and my breakfast choices. He will say, in a very entertaining fashion, “Matt used to love to eat pancake sandwiches, then we send him off to Micronesia and he comes back and all he’ll eat is a salad. A SALAD! No one respects a salad eater,” he bellows at the top of his lungs, as the confused waitress sends me a shameful glace, secretly acknowledging that my father is right and I should scrap the salad and make my dad proud.

As a side note, I think he stole the disrespect for salad eaters from Seinfeld, but I digress.

And while my dad is correct, I used to love to eat pancake sandwiches (two eggs over easy for the eyes; bacon for the mouth, hash browns for the nose, all stuffed on three huge pancakes, for the face), I don’t always get a salad. Sometimes it is a bowl of peaches, which makes him even more perplexed.

By the way, if you think I can tell a good story, you should listen to my dad. The apple, as they say, does not fall far from the tree. In fact, it is as if someone planted the apple in my brain. We are that closely related.

I love to sit next to him and hear him tell me stories. It is quite possibly the most entertaining thing I ever get to do. He, like me, never lets the facts or what really happened, get in the way of a good story. Which is essential to a good story.

However, this post is not about stories, but it is about things we ate when we were young, but somehow find the ability to refrain from currently. Somewhere in our make-up, we see the need to evolve, to eat something that is less likely to kill us and more likely to prolong our lives.

In that regard, my dad is correct. I am much more likely to eat a salad than a 3,500 calorie laden pancake sandwich, which may or may not be the second most delicious thing I have ever eaten.

The most delicious thing, and this is where it gets interesting, is listed below. My mother, being a saint, and putting up with three boys all growing up together, used to make Raisin Bars for us each Sunday night. We loved these bars and ate them by the pan, not the slice. She recently found the recipe, which she may have simply been hiding to benefit our health, and sent it to me.

Being a rigid and somewhat demented individual who may or may not have a slight inability to not engage in excess, I have not baked these yet. I’m sure we could all imagine what would happen if I did. And we should all agree that it would not, in every aspect of the word, be pretty.

But, you; you on the other hand, you have self control. You can look at a pan full of delicious and gooey deliciousness (yes that second deliciousness was on purpose) and partake without your spouse catching you excessively eating the entire pan and then licking the frosting off of it for good measure.

You are different. You, I trust. So, while I am doing yoga, please, make the recipe below and let me know how much you LOVE it. Somehow, knowing that you ate it, makes me feel like I ate it.

See, I told you I had a problem with excess.

RAISIN BARS
2 CUPS RAISINS
2 CUPS WATER
¾ C. SHORTENING
1 CUP SUGAR
1 CUP BROWN SUGAR
2 EGGS, BEATEN
½ t. SALT
1 t. SODA
1 t. BAKING POWDER
1 T. VANILLA
4 CUPS FLOUR

BOIL RAISINS AND WATER UNTIL 1 CUP LIQUID REMAINS.WHILE HOT ADD SHORTENING. SET ASIDE COMBINE SUGAR, EGGS AND VANILLA.SIFT DRY INGRED. ADD LIQUID AND DRY ALTERNATELY. GREASE COOKIE SHEET. SPREAD OUT ON LARGE COOKIE SHEET. BAKE 20-25 MIN. AT 375 DEGREES.COOL SLIGHTLY. WHILE WARM SPREAD WITH ICING AND CUT.

ICING
¼ CUP MARGARINE
1/3 CUP EVAPORATED MILK
1 t. VANILLA
2 CUPS POWDERED SUGAR.

MIX TOGETHER AND FROST RAISIN BARS.