The sweet season begins

Being Frank/Frank Ameduri

Nothing in life is simple anymore. Back when people were still wearing hot pants made from animal hides and when a shopping trip included sticks with pointy rocks on the ends, and the very good possibility of being eaten by the intended main course, there were four seasons. Now there are so many seasons, it's impossible to split them up - they just sort of run all over each other. Produce is pretty much in season all the time, which takes half the fun out of eating it. There are all the various sports seasons, the holiday seasons, a couple of different allergy seasons, flu season, the concert and opera seasons … you just can't keep track.

Then there are the countless ordering seasons. Anyone who either has kids or knows someone who has kids is all too aware of the ordering seasons. There's Boy Scout popcorn season, school band chocolate bar season, there's a season when a bunch of kids are out selling beach towels. There's even a magazine-subscription-ordering season. If you're a parent you're obligated to purchase a gross of things from your own kid and at least one thing from everybody else's kids. You have to patronize other kids, or sales will drop for your own offspring. It's a scout-eat-scout world out there.

Since my kids live in Colorado much of the year, I only have to buy the things I really want. If you're selling beach towels or cheese popcorn, don't bother. I'm not interested in craft items or any food products with the word "healthy" attached. We are now in the opening days of one of my favorite seasons, however. It's Girl Scout cookie season - put me in, coach.

There are a lot of things to like about Girl Scout cookies. First, they're cookies - small, sweet bundles of goodness. There's also the fact that the money goes to a good cause. I can honestly say I'm not sure exactly what Girl Scouts do, but they're decked out in smart little uniforms and they always seem so hygienic and spunky. Whatever they're up to, it's worth the money. Another great thing about Girl Scout cookies is that they come in so many different varieties now. In the early days there was only one kind of cookie - a shortbread in the shape of a trefoil. Then they added cream-filled and the chocolate mint cookie (now known as the Thin Mint). Nowadays there are Girl Scout cookies for nearly every palate.

As far as I can tell, the Thin Mint is pretty much the universal favorite, but I'm not partial to them. In fact, I really don't consider Thin Mints to be true cookies. You can't dunk them, for one thing. I mean, you can, but nothing happens. A real cookie undergoes chemical and physical changes during the dunking process. If you leave a cookie in too long, you'll be fishing part of it out with a spoon. If you don't leave it in long enough, the crunch factor will not sufficiently dissipate. You can dunk a Thin Mint for several hours with no detectable change.

I do like Trefoils. It's just a simple shortbread, but it has superior dunking response, and they come in plastic tubes of about 30 - which, along with 16 ounces of milk, is a perfect, one-sitting snack. The Lemon Pastry Cremes are very tasty, and they can be dunked, but they are low fat, so that's a consideration. There are two types of peanut butter cookie, but I recommend the sandwiches over the chocolate-covered.

I noticed a new cookie this year. They're called Iced Berry Piñatas. Their description reads, "A crunchy oatmeal base is iced on the bottom, filled with berry-licious fruit, and finished off with swizzles of sugar glaze and cinnamon crumb topping." I have no idea what berry-licious tastes like, but my curiosity is definitely aroused. Likewise, I'm having trouble picturing a swizzle of sugar, but I'm ready to overlook the misuse of that word as long as it's a generous swizzling, but not so generous that it interferes with the dunking experience. In my mind there's a lot of promise for Iced Berry Piñatas. If the Boy Scouts were smart, they'd let the popcorn go and follow behind the Girl Scouts, selling quarts of milk.

Frank Ameduri is almost finished with last year's Girl Scout cookies.