Ya Gotta Love Oreo Cookies and Milk - Dr. Ed Iannuccilli

Monday, February 27, 2023

Dr. Ed Iannuccilli, Columnist

 

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Because I love Oreo cookies, I keep an ever-ready stash.  I learned recently that Oreo was adding flavors like pink and green, red wine with hints of chocolate, and confetti cake. They have also evolved ways to catch the attention of snack lovers with limited editions, collectible cards, and eBay commodities. A bit different from the days when I was a kid when there was only one Oreo.

Upon arriving from school, I dashed to the kitchen cabinet, snapped the Oreos from the package, shuffled to the refrigerator for the milk, and marched to the kitchen table. I glanced at my grandfather’s garden below.

Nothing seemed to compare with Oreo cookies . . . not warm apple pie and ice cream, not custard pie, not a Napoleon, not a hermit cookie or a lemon square, not a Creamsicle, not an éclair, not even a hot fudge sundae. Well . . . Anyway, I knew the best way to eat those cookies.

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The Oreo, with its thick cream sandwiched between branded discs of chocolate, was made for milk and shaped for a tall glass. Six fit perfectly. I stacked them, poured on the milk, watched, and waited. One could, I suppose, eat a cookie, and follow it with a gulp of milk. Not good enough. One could, I suppose, separate the cookie, and lick the cream first. Not good enough. One could, I suppose, dunk the cookie in the milk and eat one at a time. Almost good enough if you submersed the entire cookie.

Cookies under milk (biscuits au lait) required patience. As the milk trickled down the narrow space between cookies and glass, between the cookies, then between the wafer and the cream, bubbles rose. The Oreos had succumbed when they were soft, plump, and gummy and the distinction between white and deep mahogany was blurred. Patience was necessary.

So as not to explode them, I pushed my Hopalong Cassidy spoon along the sides of the stack to the bottom with care. If done with haste, the milk and satin-like mixture erupted, sometimes strafing me with an artillery of thick mahogany and white.

With a delicate twist, I penetrated the compote, filled the spoon, and slurped the slurry home. As I puckered the sphere between my tongue and palate, the sweet, soft mushy blend of cold milk, chocolate, and cream became the perfect combination. My tongue now became the master as I swirled it around the soft paste, squeezed the Oreos against my cheeks, and pressed them to my palate. After a moment, I pushed the treat back and swallowed. When the Oreos were gone, I tipped the glass and drank the last of the milk and the flecks of chocolate. Sometimes the driblet flowed out and over my chin to my neck. I was in Oreo heaven.

A good cookie needs to have variety and balance in its texture and flavor. These babies did. I was the expert. With Oreos, you can’t outrun the past. Why change them?

Dr. Ed Iannuccilli is the author of three popular memoirs, “Growing up Italian; Grandfather’s Fig Tree and Other Stories”, “What Ever Happened to Sunday Dinner” and “My Story Continues: From Neighborhood to Junior High.”  NOW, he has written his fourth book "A Whole Bunch of 500 Word Stories."

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