Kodiak Gummi

Recently a friend of mine was nice enough to share the bounty of her 30th birthday-- a giant gummi bear. For a few weeks, she taunted me about the monster, telling me each time she saw me that she had forgotten the bear, but that we were bound to share it when she could remember to bring it. (I am still uncertain how one forgets for a moment about a Kodiak-sized gummi bear, much less refrains from eating it for three weeks, but to each her own, I suppose.)

This one's for you, Tall.

Anyway, for those three weeks, my friend had trumpeted the virtues of this bear-- that it was a full pound in weight and that we would need a Thanksgiving-style carving knife to enjoy it. I was eager, yet cautious in my optimism, and I patiently (not really) waited for my dear friend to live up to her word. Finally, she arrived at a social gathering with the bear, and it was not unimpressive. It had a definite heft to it, and it glistened in a large bear-shaped plastic container. It was orange, dense, glossy. However, upon inspection, I found that the bear was in fact only 12 ounces in weight (3/4 lb), and that made my heart sink just a little. In addition, the bear was a bit sweaty, as it was hot out, and it had not been refrigerated. I knew that texturally, the bear would not be much past marmalade.

There she is.

Still, when my friend took the bear inside to slice it up, I could not help but experience a rush of anticipation. Such a sizable gummi is not something to be taken lightly, and I wanted to share in this communal ritual of consumption with my friends. The gummi pieces finally arrived, and, as expected, they were sticky and glued to the platter. They stretched from the plate like gum on hot asphalt. However, all skepticism was pushed aside once I tasted the bear. It was one of the better orange candy flavorings I had ever tasted. It was sweet, citrusy, tangy, brilliant. It captured the oranginess of oranges, and it had a rich color that reflected its depth of flavor. I shall not soon forget the sacrifice made by that noble ursine creature-- it paid the ultimate price that others might taste a little slice of heaven.