Years ago, I found myself stranded overnight at the Detroit Airport. Weather delayed my incoming flight and the last plane to ABE had already departed. I joined about forty fellow Lehigh Valley-bound passengers awaiting the upcoming 6:15 AM flight at the gate. We spent a restless night trying to sleep on the floor. George Clooney never had these problems in "Up In The Air".
Around 4 AM, the scent of bubbling cinnamon and sugar filled the air. Cinnabon was starting up! We stampeded to the eatery only to find it chained and locked. It would open at 6 AM. We would be boarded on the plane by then munching on stale peanuts instead of a soft, gooey Cinnabon.
This was intolerable! Nothing has ever smelled as good as those Cinnabons. We are from the Lehigh Valley. Eating unhealthy foods to excess is our birthright! We pounded on the door. We shouted. We pleaded. We offered wealth beyond compare. Finally, the poor soul baking the buns took pity on us and opened for business. As good as those Cinnabons smelled, they tasted even better.
Perhaps one of my fellow passengers from that day thought up a new Fastnacht Day tradition for Union Evangelical Church in Schnecksville. The church will hold a brief service of confession and absolution at 7 PM, but, while the service is in progress, volunteer cooks will be frying fastnachts. Imagine the scent of those potato-based beauties fried in lard drifting into the sanctuary. "OK, Pastor, we're all sinners. Dust to dust, ashes to ashes, I get it. Let's get this over with so I can dive into those fastnachts!"
Union Church, no doubt, is filled to capacity for this service. Remarkably, the fastnachts don't even have to be good. Any food that you can smell cooking and that you can't get at for a while tastes great. I've had Cinnabons since Detroit and frankly they didn't compare. The path to a man's heart may be through his stomach, but it really starts at his nose.
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