Hi everyone,
It didn’t take very long, maybe a second or two, before Daniela Macia’s 10-year-old eyes spotted one of the brass rings of childhood in Danbury — a big red button to push with no waiting.
I suppose it doesn’t get much better than that for a kid at Stew Leonard’s, the grocery store carnival with free samples, fresh food and all that mechanized magic.
For nearly a quarter century now, Daniela and thousands of other kids at Stew’s have run up to a mega-sized box of Twinkies and pushed that same big red button.
“Hi! I’m Twinkie the Kid!” the cowboy hat-wearing snack cake declares to Danbury’s next generation of kids.
But will there be a generation after Daniela? And how about her 7-year-old sister, Natalia?
SEE TWINKIE FOR YOURSELF: http://youtu.be/rGo-NYQPicw
Sadly, Twinkie the Kid is the face of a dying brand with a flawed business model to match.
For the second time in almost eight years, the parent company of Twinkies — first it was Interstate Bakeries, now it’s Hostess — announced last week that it is seeking bankruptcy protection.
Hostess listed $860 million in debt in papers filed with the U.S. Bankruptcy Court for the Southern District of New York, according to The Associated Press.
That’s a lot of Twinkies.
As far as I can tell, there are no butter cream buyouts coming from the President’s Council on Physical Fitness.
Times — and tastes — have changed for Twinkie the Kid, you see.
Gone are the days when Twinkies filled every kid’s school lunch box. Gone are the days when kids washed down their Twinkies with grape Kool-Aid or Tang, the SunnyD of the ’70s.
These days, despite near-epidemic problems with childhood obesity, apple slices, carrot sticks and celery stalks smothered in peanut butter have become the snacks of choice in many American households.
And yet, there is something irresistible about a talking snack cake wearing cowboy boots, even at 150 calories and 4.5 grams of fat.
I suppose one part of it is nostalgia. The other part, at least for me, is the wide-eyed radar kids use when they run up to push those big red buttons.
As much as Clover the Cow — the bovine in the back of Stew Leonard’s where kids tug the rope to elicit a foghorn from her throat — and the Chiquita Banana lady with the Carmen Miranda headdress, Twinkie the Kid is a headliner here.
Just don’t try buying Twinkies at Stew Leonard’s.
The company hasn’t sold them for several years, Meghan Bell, a company spokeswoman, said Friday afternoon.
But there’s no denying Twinkie the Kid’s popularity with those who love his slow-motion, jack-in-the-box entrance.
For those new to Twinkie the Kid, just look for the giant ear of corn suspended from the ceiling in the produce section at Stew Leonard’s; Twinkie the Kid is nestled right around the corner.
“I remember growing up with Twinkies. They were a part of my childhood,” said Felipe Macia, 45, a banker from New York and the father of Daniela and Natalia.
“But it’s a different world now. Watch this: Do you know what a Twinkie is?” Macia asked Daniela.
The little girl shook her head. So did her sister.
But not Shira Newman.
Newman is 31 years old and lives in New York. She’s been coming to Stew Leonard’s ever since her family moved to Somers, N.Y., when she was 2 years old.
On Friday, she visited Twinkie the Kid with her parents, Donna and Steve Bookin, and her 9-month-old son, Max.
“The store wasn’t this big when we first started coming here. It was just a tent where they sold produce — fruits and vegetables, things like that,” Donna Bookin said, adding with a laugh, “I came here so much they built a bigger building.”
Over and over — at least five or six times — Newman pushed the big red button to summon Twinkie the Kid.
And, every time, Max — in a nod to the cadence of Ridgefield’s Maurice Sendak — smiled his beautiful smile.
Sure, Twinkies are hardly the food pyramid’s missing link, proprietary cream filling and all.
But for those who remember Twinkie the Kid and a simpler time, it’s still fun to press that big red button at Stew Leonard’s.
