merrily popping away

If you have not popped stovetop popcorn in a while, say since childhood, get thee to a heavy bottomed pan. The process is so quick and awesome, I can’t believe that air-popping machines ever gunked up our nation’s pantries.

In a matter of minutes, your kitchen smells like a movie theater and you’re transported to the eight year-old version of yourself, cheering every victorious pop.

When we were kids – before microwave popcorn took hold – we would stove-pop enough kernels to fill our huge yellow mixing bowl, and melt an entire stick of butter to pour over top. When we got down to the bottom, the last pieces of popcorn were like icebergs in a sea of butter, and we would elbow each other out of the way to drag the last squishy pieces through the butter before it completely congealed.

And when you could still rent film projectors at our local library, we would turn our sunken conversation pit (yes, this is actually the name of a room in the barn I grew up in) into a movie theater, with the projector set up at the back. My sisters and friends and I would make little-kid versions of those cigarette girl trays, filled with candy and popcorn, and walk the “aisle”, even though sometimes we only had four customers. I can still hear the sound of the end of the movie, with the end of the reel slap-slap-slapping around the projector and the whir of the motor.

I just read that there’s a new anniversary edition of Gone with the Wind. While it isn’t real film, it sounds like the only reason I need to stovepop a big bowl and marvel at Scarlett and all those dresses.

And if you find yourself having a popcorn epiphany like me, then read this great post by Willi. It may make you realize that, while you never aspired to growing and drying your own popcorn, that is now exactly what you want to do.