My lovely wife was out of wine this evening. That in itself is not bad, but I was just about out of beer. Wisely, I volunteered to make a quick run down to the local grocery store, and axed if anyone else needed anything. My kids spoke up. They wanted those fruit things. You know. Sticky fruit things. “Fruit Leathers?” I asked, and the correct answer bells went off all over the house. Even the cat jumped up and ran outside to where cats belong.
So I went down to the local market, looking for fruit leathers, figuring that they must be somewhere between the canned artichoke hearts and the Liquid Plumber. I wandered for a while until a worker bee, who didn’t know what fruit leathers were either, directed me to the “ethnic aisle”. No one in California knows what fruit leathers are unless they have already made their peace with God and spend a lot of their time reminiscing about street cars and people named Walter.
I found the aisle. I found dried mango slices. Good enough, I thought, until I found a bag of things right next to them labeled “IGDE PSHAT”.
I arrived at the checkout stand with a bottle of wine, some cheap beer, dehydrated mango slices, and a bag of Igde Pshat, and NO ONE questioned me. Spooky.

I later found out that they knew something I had completely glossed over. Igde Pshat has almost no nutrients, but it tastes pretty good. One serving is listed as eight of the little roach-sized buggers, according to the label.
Eating eight gives you all the 29 grams of sugar you need to live another four days. If you eat 57, you might as well stay on the potty until noon, and consider the risk of diabetes. Eat 80 and you have your daily carbs, and you’re sugar-wired. If you eat 400 daily, all your calcium and iron is accounted for, too, and you’ll live to the ripe old age of 37.

IS THIS THE PERFECT SNACK FOOD, OR WHAT? No significant nutritional value, it’s grown in third world countries, tastes good, and it’s cheaper than dried mango. And no, it doesn’t taste like Pshat.