For those with a great talent for baking and higher standards when talking about pre-made processed foods, you may have never heard of the fear that many face, when forced to open a peel-away Pillsbury dough carton/tube. It’s frightening, nerve racking, and too much for this girl to handle. For me it’s the anticipation preceding the pop that’s the worst part-- like waiting for the bad guy to emerge from the shadows to attack. The high pitched screeching of a stringed instrument or the keening of a ferocious beast may not be heard during this culinary process, but still, the opener is none the less audibly tormented. It’s the quiet slow ripping of paper peeling away from cardboard accompanied by uneven breathing and then… POP! Not only does the plaster white dough instantly puff out of the slits of the cardboard like fat around the edges of skin tight jeans, but the cook is a wreck and has to sit down till the shaking stops and can begin to breath without the fear of hyperventilating.
The strange thing about this fear is that there was a time in my younger years when I enjoyed, even sought out, the opportunity to open these containers. Ah youth, the time for thrill seeking and dough popping! Where have you gone?