I'm not from here

Overall, I would say that our transition to CNY has been a smooth one - we've found our way around the city pretty easily (with kudos to Jack the GPS), we've been overwhelmed at the warm welcome and extension of hospitality by the church we've been visiting, and we've found the people here to be much friendlier than we southerners sometimes stereotype "northerners" to be (i.e. people smile and nod when you pass them on the walking path at the park). However, there is occasionally a situation which arises that reminds me that indeed, "I'm not from here" (preceding phrase to be read throughout this post with an exaggerated Southern accent :)

This week's situation went as follows:

Will has been working extra hard on a project at work and I thought he deserved, in honor of his faithful efforts, a french silk pie, which is one of his favorite desserts and for which I have an excellent recipe. So, on Monday, I went to the grocery to pick up the one ingredient I was missing - marshmallow creme, which everyone knows is located on the baking supplies aisle adjacent to the marshmallows themselves (a location which is most fitting and logical in my humble estimation). Upon arriving on the baking supplies aisle, however, I was mystified to find no marshmallow creme at all! There were the chocolate chips, the brownie mixes, the spices, sprinkles, and marshmallows, but not even an empty space for the marshmallow creme. Since, as previously mentioned, I find the location on the baking aisle to be a supremely logical place for this pantry staple, I could think of no other place in the store to even begin looking, and thus was forced to ask one of the helpful employees for assistance...

"Excuse me, could you tell me where the marshmallow creme is?"

After a thoughtful pause, the response was, "Do you mean marshmallow fluff?"

Not quite knowing how to respond, I replied with "Umm, well, I'm not from here and I don't know what yall call it, but sure, can you tell me where that is?"

(At this point, in the interest of full disclosure, I must admit that I did knowingly and intentionally use the contraction "yall" in order to emphasize my plight and the extent to which I am certainly "not from here.")

At this point, the helpful employee led me to the peanut butter and jelly aisle and picked up a jar right next to the peanut butter labeled "Marshmallow Fluff." Slightly suspicious at first, I closely examined the jar and found, to my great surprise, a recipe for easy fudge on the back.

"Is that what you were looking for?"

"Well, you can make fudge out of it, so I guess so! Thanks!"


So, to all my Southern friends, I am now living in a land where marshmallow creme suffers under the misnomer "fluff" and is forced to reside next to the peanut butter instead of in its rightful place (lets all say it together...) BY THE MARSHMALLOWS!

PS: For anyone who's interested, the pie turned out fine! Here's a picture to prove it: