He loved tucking into a plateful of torn-up white bread dotted with butter and drizzled with Karo pancake syrup.
Sure, it was bad for him. So was the fried Spam, the pinch of Garrett's stuck between cheek and gum, and the whiskey whose drained bottles we'd occasionally find hidden in his bedroom closet.
Then again, my grandfather lived to be 91.
I can take or leave the fried Spam, definitely leave the whiskey and snuff.
But, oh, lordy, how I do love them "syrups," as my grandmother used to say. For me, the word was singular, and only one would do: Karo.
Unlike other pancake syrups that ran in rivulets around your plate, Karo was thick enough to ooze. Across your pancakes or French toast it would slowly slide, before dribbling down the sides and onto your plate.
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It's the pancake syrup my kids and grandkids grew up with. Years ago, I even took it on a cross-country trip. When we ate pancakes for breakfast at a relative's house, I ran out to the car and got my Karo.
If all this is reading in the past tense, you've got it, astute reader. For, to the best of my knowledge — and that of the gurus at the giant conglomerate that now owns Karo — Karo pancake syrup is no longer available in Tucson.
At least that's the word from "Trish" in Consumer Affairs, who e-mailed me that their "item locator" was showing only one store in Tucson that might stock the syrup.
I called. They don't.
Now being in this business as long as I have, I know absolutes seem to vanish the minute you say they exist.
So, if you know someplace in this burg where Karo pancake syrup is, indeed, still stocked in a store open to the general public, have at it.
Otherwise, I may be forced to order it on the Internet. Yes, syrup. Arriving in my mailbox at $2.99 a pop, $20 minimum order.
If you think I make too much of this, consider where Trish sent me in search of syrup: www.hometownfavorites.com.
Started in 1996, the Web site features more than 2,000 foods folks are clamoring for that are no longer carried on the shelves of their local grocery stores.
Mind you, these foods are still in production. But if certain products aren't flying off the grocer's shelves, they're soon replaced with "new and improved" models.
Which leads us to our Web site of wallflowers: 15 "aisles," offering everything from soft drinks to pickles to an entire line of Texas products. (Hell on the Red Chili Fixins, anyone?)
But Hometown Favorites also knows what it cannot do: supply an item no longer in production — in this case, a list now running just under 25 pages. Single spaced.
It's a roll call that begins with A & W Root Beer Gum and ends with Zaps.
Silly kiddie treats are one thing. But in between are dozens of better-known products no longer made by such industry giants as Betty Crocker, Campbell's, Kellogg's, Nabisco and General Mills.
Adios to a few of my long-ago favorites: Betty Crocker Date Bar Mix, Chef Boyardee Spaghetti Sauce (a lifesaver for young brides) and Nabisco Triangle Thins.
Who knows what other favorites may someday join that list — or become available only on the Internet.
But I've got a hunch it might be puddings — the kind you have to cook for creaminess. Already they're becoming harder to find on my grocer's shelves.
Pudding via the postman? Possibly so.
