Drake’s Ring Dings: Once-Foiled Champ Still Packs One-Two Punch

Drake’s Ring Dings: Once-Foiled Champ Still Packs One-Two Punch

“Dinner of champions,” a Facebook friend posted recently as the caption to a photo of Hostess Cupcakes. Those very cupcakes that I still crave sometimes and surely did once I saw a picture of them in my feed.

But, though the chocolaty two-pack pastries with their signature swirl were always a fave, I cannot deny my undying love for Drake’s Ring Dings. (I’d say the two treats from the different companies were “rivals,” but the battle never mattered to my youthful belly. Add Chocodiles to the mix and you’d have one sugary axis of purely delicious evil – but don’t get me started.)

Ring Dings, like Hostess’ Cupcakes (or more similarly like Hostess’ Ding Dongs), were puck-shaped devil’s food cakes frosted in a chocolate coating and filled with your standard white (vanilla?) cream (or creme if you’re fancy). But you know this.

I downed them as a kid. (Side note: Isn’t it funny how all the things you ate as a child are the very things you want to keep away from your kids? Ah, let them have it: while their metabolisms can handle it!) Back when I use to gobble up Ring Dings, they were individually wrapped in foil. Yes, foil!

The great thing for my creative (maybe obsessive-compulsive) younger self was: once I finished my tasty cake, I had this 6x6ish-square inch piece of shiny paper to play with. I would press out all the wrinkles or draw pictures on it with my finger. A classmate of mine would save his aluminum (from his packed lunch) and ball it up, until it created this near melon-size mass in his cubby.

They’ve since lost the foil for plastic, and now added a second Ring Ding in the same package. (Double yum.) Still somewhat creative, I recall in college using the white slip of card stock that held the two ‘dings in place’ to write notes (or admittedly poetry) on.

While I may not go as far as having them for dinner, it does take me the will of a champion to pass by the Drake’s station at the end of the supermarket aisle without just unloading the shelves into my cart. Luckily, I have nieces and nephews I can just steal from share with.


Mashismo was a bicentennial baby and a child of the '80s. He grew into his ears and out of his awkward phase (glasses AND headgear!), but never truly grew up. Read more from him at Bacon Eggs & Geek: http://bit.ly/baconeggsgeek or http://medium.com/@ernio.

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