For a couple of decades I’ve been eating saltine crackers, and I’m confident I’ve been eating saltine crackers longer than avocados, tofu, and even pizza. And so, as I chomp down an entire sleeve of saltine crackers while reading and writing, I find myself asking a simple question.
Why do I love saltine crackers so much?
Nostalgia and retro are in, but I don’t really reminisce about my youth every time I open a sleeve of crackers. Eating saltine crackers is not like replaying Super Mario Bros or Contra or The Legend of Zelda and getting gobsmacked by those warm and fuzzy feelings of nostalgia. So what is it then?
The taste? Not at all. Saltine crackers are a far cry from competing on that menu.
Saltine crackers, a status symbol? I suppose you could make a case, but it’d be a stretch. Like a Dhalsim-From-Street-Fighter kind of stretch.
So here’s my lazy, keep it within a single page of writing analysis and conclusion. I love saltine crackers because there’s something about the texture and process of crunching a cracker. This specific type of cracker. It’s that simple.