popcorn

The Boys Scouts are responsible for year of our family feasting on popcorn. Years ago, when my first stepson entered Cub Scouts, he brought home 20, 5-pound sacks of yellow or white kernel popcorn he was to sell to help fund the troop’s yearly activities. His troop had a direct connection with a local popcorn farmer. The troop leaders had developed a primitive machine for measuring and filling 5-pound bags with either yellow or white popcorn.
Our in-house scientist wondered what was the difference between yellow and white popcorn. No stone is unturned, no questioned unanswered if he can find out an answer. He popped a cup of each kind of popcorn. Popped up, the yellow corn had a light golden hue and overflowed the pan. The white popped into smaller, crisper pristine white kernels that tended to stay fresh longer.
I preferred the white, and of course as these things go, my hubby preferred the yellow.
Our Cub Scout had to sell at least 20 sacks. Although relatives helped out, we weren’t very good salespeople. We ate a lot of popcorn.
Plain popcorn with salt cried to be seasoned up. So the experimenter added butter, onion salt, garlic salt or a combination of all three. We quickly developed our favorite combinations.
For the next several years at least one Hershberger son was a Cub Scout with a yearly quota of 20 bags of popcorn. We decided at the price of popcorn and the number of boys we had gobbling it down, popcorn was a healthy, inexpensive family snack. Every time my husband popped corn it was enough to fill an antique, blue enamel dish pan. Through the years as the boys and family grew in size, we worked our way up to buying and consuming 50 pounds of popcorn a year.
Because we ate popcorn instead of pre-packaged sacks, the experimenter had plenty of opportunity to try out a variety of seasonings. The children watched him sprinkle the popcorn with salts, powders and oils before declaring the most current batch ready to eat. Every time he told us that seasonings he added made the difference. Every time they polished off the tub of popcorn in one sitting.
One evening, our youngest elementary student decided to help him out. As Dad pawed through the cupboards for garlic salt, onion salt and butter, his helper grabbed a shaker from the back of the stove and added his own special flavoring. He was as proud of himself as his father had been of his accomplishments in the culinary section.
“I made it taste good,” he announced proudly. He watched happily as we reached in and took our first handful. We quickly followed the popcorn with a healthy slug from our mugs of water.
“You did?”
“Uh huh.”
“What did you put in?”
“Something different.”
It was different all right. He had added black pepper, lots of it to the popcorn.
It was perfect for anyone who love the taste of pepper. The rest of us drank a lot of water. That tub of popcorn was the one of the few that we did not finish. Peppered popcorn never became a family favorite.


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