Are they made from real Girl Scouts?

Are they made from real Girl Scouts?

I should take Jerry Seinfeld’s advice and leave on a high note after the last story but alas, I have blog fever.

Well, you know what season it is?  Spring?  Baseball?  Rabbit?  Perhaps…but it is also Girl Scout Cookie season.  The time of year where parents sell cookies to elevate their child’s status to top cookie pusher among their peers.

This is less a story about the cookie mongers and more a story of the red headed stepchild  (of which I was one) of the Girl Scout cookie world, the Dulce De Leche.

The Dulce De Leche is inspired by the classic confections of Latin America, these sweet, bite-sized cookies are rich with milk caramel chips.  The translation roughly means “candy of milk” or “candy (made) of milk”.  But the Girl Scouts did not find it necessary to translate this for us.  It gave the cookie second citizen type status, well, at least according to Newt Gingrich…and I suspect he has had quite a few cookies in his lifetime.

Also, to make an effort to give their cookies a clearer name depicting what the cookie is, the Girl Scouts added descriptive names to their cookie line.  The Samoa now is also called Caramel deLites, The Do-Si-Dos are also called Peanut Butter Sandwiches, Tagalongs are now also called Peanut Butter Patties and even the Trefoils are also called Shortbread…and who the HELL eats those!  Guess what cookie was left out?  You got it, the Dulce De Leche.  Even the Girl Scout organization looks down upon this cookie.  You would think the ONE cookie that needed a description was the ONE in Spanish.

Now, I know what you are thinking.  Why is Walsh up in arms now?  Is it a racial equality thing,  is he a pedafile?  No, it is just that the Dulce De Leche is a damn good cookie! AND…. apparently those who peddle the Girl Scout cookie line never seem to have them in stock…or even know what I am talking about.  I have always seemed to have a taste for the less popular choices.  I remember back in the day at the old Pizza Parlors…calling them parlors emphasizes how old I am.  They would have Italian Ices…little flavored frozen water treats that kids would die for.  You remember they would have the Italian Ice sign up in the window?  Lemon, Cherry, Chocolate, Rainbow and Pina Colada.  But guess what, in almost EVERY Pizza Parlor, the Pina Colada was crossed out!  The one flavor I WANTED.  I LIKE Pina Colada – and getting caught in the rain (sorry, I couldn’t resist).  Each day I would ask, Mr. Pizza Man, do you have Pina Colada?  He would say: Kid, we got four freakin flavors (imagine your best Brooklyn-ese accent)…just pick from one a doze.  We didn’t have it yesterday, we don’t have it today and we ain’t gonna have it tomorrow neither.

Well, the Dulce De Leche is MY Pina Colada!

Luckily, I do have my own cookie connection.  But even then, explaining to a smart 10 year old which cookie I wanted creates a language barrier that eventually gets me on the phone with her Mom.  Mom grabs the sheet, and low and behold…there is a spot to check off Dulce De Leches.  She pointed out to me, WOW, no one EVER orders those!  I flashed back to my childhood and envisioned a sign with the Dulce De Leche crossed out.

Our order came quickly, and left even faster.  Apparently I also turned my wife on to these little crack-like cookies.  They were gone, and we both needed a fix.  I knew where to find these diminutive dealers of the Devil, and where they frequented their wares.  Yes, the LIRR train station…who says nothing good ever comes from the LIRR! (see future blogs).  I approached a small group of the miniature merchants.  I proudly proclaimed: I would like the Dulce De Leche please.  The girls stared at me like I rattled off some kind of third world curse word.  At this point, I should have given up…but I wanted my Pina Col…Dulce De Leches!  I looked around the back at the boxes, not seeing my familiar turquoise box.  The girls asked: Are you looking for Do-Si-Dos?…and I explained again: No…the Dulce De Leches…a caramel type cookie.  I asked if they had a list of the cookies.  At this point Mom spotted me…and all I can think is, here comes an AMBER ALERT!  But I was on a mission!  Luckily Mom was patient and I wouldn’t be leaving in handcuffs.  But unfortunately she was less versed in the cookies than her offspring.  She tried, but every time I said Dulce De Leche…she responded with: Do you mean Do-Si-Do’s?  I had already done this dance.

Finally, reluctantly I relented, forking over my $4 and got a box of Do-Si-Do’s….like settling for a Lemon ice…