I still eat spaghettios. Not with the rapture of eating them when I actually was six years old, mind you, but they still serve as an excellent backup lunch in a time of need. When I was in the target age group for them, my preferred sort was the spaghettios with franks. In fact, I’ve been a fan of wieners for as long as I can remember (innuendo completely intended). Plain spaghettios just weren’t all that interesting, and I had issues with the meatballs. Perhaps I associated them too strongly with meatloaf, which, as far as I was concerned, was a big loaf of nasty. I even had a strategy when eating spaghettios: noodles first, saving almost all of the franks for the very end, when I could down them all in a few luscious scoops.
Well, my tastes have matured, and I’ve expanded my mind. My eating of the meat particles is now more distributed throughout the entire process of consumption. I’ve also become more accepting of the wee little meatballs, to the extent that I’m no longer sure which I prefer more: franks or meatballs. Both are joyous in their own magical meat byproductey ways.
The perfect accompaniment to such a joyous pasta from a can is, of course, ants on a log. In defense of this delicacy, I did not actually experience it until late middle school. My first experience with it involved not only the requisite peanut butter, celery, and raisins, but also chocolate chips, chocolate sauce, and possibly other sugary items that I no longer remember. It was quite delicious with those enhancements. I’ve toned it down since then to the first three ingredients, which are surprisingly satisfying when combined together. In conclusion, ants on a log are an excellent means to deal with extraneous celery.