Peeps are awesome.

I love these marshmallowing, sugary little creatures – okay, I’ll own it, I’m a purest and believe the only real peeps are the yellow chicks. I especially like them after they’ve gone a little stale, have a bit of crust to them and are nice and chewy.

Peeps, the way they were meant to be. 

Peep praises duly sung, I was thinking on what to create for an Easter contribution to the blog. We’re doing the traditional ham (although though in an unusual way – now you’ll have to come back for the recipe, won’t you?) Then I got to thinking about sweet potatoes. The Tinker loves candied sweet potatoes with marshmallows. Peeps are marshmallows. Peeps scream Easter (well, not literally). Why not do Sweet Peep Potatoes!

Charred remains of incinerated Peeps.

So, inspired, I started nosing around the internet and was horrified at what I saw. Blacked, burned, mutilated peeps sacrificed in the name of creativity. I can only imagine small children crying at the table at the sight of these formerly cheery creatures now incinerated, their charred carcasses adorning what should be a festive Easter table.

I mean no disrespect or criticism to the recipes themselves, I’m sure they are delicious. Once you get by the horrifying site of the charred Peeps.

Decapitated, disemboweled Peeps.

Equally horrifying were the recipes that incorporated Peeps in other ways: pancakes and monkey bread, all with former-Peep goo oozing from them in a sort of Peepy slime. “Look kids! I chopped up and cooked the Peeps!” Imagine the joy.

So with this firmly in mind,  I will just enjoy my Easter peeps the way they were intended. Happy yellow chicks whose heads I will bite off first. Seems more merciful somehow.

(Note: PEEPS is a registered trademark of Just Born Inc.)