Slate's Pepperidge Farm Manifesto Forgets To Ask: What The Hell Happened To Capri Cookies?
Slate has a story today by Leon Neyfakh that aims to parse the true meaning and personality behind each and every Pepperidge Farm cookie. Driven by a need to understand his own love for the relatively boring Chessmen, Neyfakh sets out to eat every Pepperidge Farm cookie available.
It was then that I decided to sample every cookie in the Pepperidge Farm family and figure out what was what. I would try to understand what made each cookie special and seductive -- and what it might mean to be drawn to one of them more than another.
The story goes on to detail not only each cookie, but also the history and culture of Pepperidge Farm. (Fun fact: Most Pepperidge Farm cookies are eaten by moms ... but you already knew that because your mom totally bought Milanos and wouldn't let you eat them, just like everyone else's mom.) But within this lengthy and exhaustive story, Neyfakh fails to ask the one burning important question that has haunted Pepperidge Farm lovers for decades: What the hell happened to the Capri???
Remember the Capri cookie? It was the best. It was like a grown-up Oreo: crumbly chocolate cookies around a white creme filling. The chocolate part was like a really good brownie, but crisper. The crumb was dark and the creme was not too sweet. Growing up in Australia, where there are no Pepperidge Farm cookies, I fantasized about Capri cookies like a long lost love. When we'd visit America, my mother and I would go directly from the airport to the supermarket and buy a bag of them, then stay up all night with jet lag eating Capris.
The Capri is mentioned in the story as one of the original in Pepperidge Farm's line of "distinctive" cookies, but never again. They were discontinued some time in the late '80s or early '90s (right when I moved to the U.S. for good, because God hates me). For a while you could still find them in those big boxes of cookies Pepperidge Farm puts out for parties -- "delectable selections" or whatever. But then they disappeared forever, and along with them went my dreams of happiness.
But why? Why would Pepperidge Farm take away the one cookie they had that was mainly chocolate? Doesn't that go against the laws of cookie? It's a question that will haunt me forever.
When Googling the Capri cookie, I came across this sad Facebook page that threatens to "occupy Pepperidge Farm" until they bring back the Capri. It has 18 likes!! Maybe we're on to something!!
Seriously Pepperidge Farm. What's up? You ruined America for me. Bring back the Capri so I can finally be happy and those 18 randos on Facebook don't have to occupy anything.
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