Ranking Communion Cracker Replacements
Like all of you, I was super pumped to be back in the building for church this weekend. Six months of displacement has been, of course, longer than any of us expected and much more difficult than anyone could have foreseen. I missed the worship, the sermons, the fellowship, the end of fellowship based on needing to get out the door and on the road to Olive Garden before the crowds assembled, and, of course, I missed communion. I love communion. I don’t like to serve communion because I really want that one quiet moment in church each week; it is a centering moment for me.[1]
Communion during quarantine was super wheels off for me as I’m sure it was for many of you.[2] I was pretty good at keeping grape juice on hand through most of quarantine though I would be lying if I told you we didn’t resort to Gatorade a time or two. But as for the bread? Every week was a scramble to find something bread-y for communion. Here is a ranking of all the things Lindsey, Cooper, and I used as a Communion Cracker replacement over the last six months.
SALTINE CRACKERS
I mean, I get it, Saltine Fans,[3] there’s nothing wrong with saltine crackers. But there’s also nothing right with saltine crackers. The biggest downside to the Saltine Cracker, of course, is its unfortunate association with having a stomach bug. Open up a bag of Saltine Crackers and your brain begins to wonder if you’re secretly planning on becoming sick or if you’ve already been so sick that your body forgot about all the puking you must have done very recently because there’s no other reason to be eating Saltine Crackers. 1/10, Would Not Recommend
DORITOS
First things first.
Question: “Brian, do you mean Nacho Cheese Doritos or Cool Ranch Doritos? Or, I guess, Ultimate Cheddar Doritos, Spicy Nacho Doritos, or Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos?” – Taylor Walling
Answer: “Obviously I’m talking about Cool Ranch Doritos, Taylor, I’m not a monster.”
Second, Dorito Communion Day was at, like, the dead center of quarantine when emotions were high, shelves were low on supplies, and we were really trying not to venture out if at all possible. Then Sunday rolled around and yowza, the pantry was depressing. My son looked at me like I was crazy when I handed him a Cool Ranch Dorito and I honestly didn’t blame him. The biggest issue with the Dorita for communion is the flavor profile when mixed with grape juice. We probably should’ve just doubled down on this communion “treat” and swapped out grape juice for Mountain Dew. 2/10, Would Not Recommend
TOSTITOS
I have definitely had Tostitos with grape juice before. Don’t judge me,[4] college was weird and sometimes it was Sunday night in Searcy, Arkansas and the midnight snack choices were slim pickins, as they say in Searcy, Arkansas. The flavor is fine, it’s just that they’re so dang salty. Sooooo salty. And it’s the kind of salty that doesn’t wash away quickly like most of the better communion choices herein. Once you’ve had Tostitos Communion, you’re pretty much like, “Welp. I guess this is what my mouth tastes like forever now.” 4/10, Vaguely Would Not Recommend.
NILLA WAFERS
On paper, Nilla Wafers sounds like a decent, if not downright good, idea as a replacement for unleavened bread. They’re sweet but not overly sweet, they kinda dissolve in your mouth, and they pair well with the juice. But they’re also wholly unsatisfying; they’re just sweet enough to activate the part of your brain that knows sugar is delicious even though it’s bad for you but not sweet enough to make that part of your brain go back into hibernation. And then you[5] spend the entire sermon being mildly distracted by wishing for more sugar. This is some real Screwtape Letters stuff right here. 5/10, Would Vaguely Recommend
GOLDFISH
Goldfish have to be the world leader in “Children’s snack most often stolen by a parent”, especially when you factor in the serving size of a bag of Goldfish. I hazard to guess that my son has never once in his life had a bag of Goldfish in my presence without me snagging a few out of that bag and I KNOW I am not alone in this. I don’t even like Goldfish all that much, it’s just a base instinct. “You got Goldfish? HOOK ME UP, BRO.”
My only hesitation on Goldfish as a communion replacement is there is no greater sign of Parental Give Up than busting out the Goldfish on Sunday morning. In my seven-ish years of having a child who can eat Goldfish, we have never once NOT had a thing of Goldfish in the pantry. Whether or not those Goldfish were fresh and not expired is a different matter entirely. When you have a child, people bring you diapers and wipes and home cooked meals and stuff and somewhere along the line someone hands you a gigantic box of Goldfish and that’s just a part of your life for at least the next 18 years. “Goldfish for Communion” might as well come with a note[6] that says “Yeah, look, I forgot, okay? Give me a break. It’s a pandemic. There’s a lot going on.” In fact, in the next pandemic, Goldfish should announce themselves as the official cracker of “Oops, I Forgot” Communion. 7/10, Would Recommend
PRETZELS
I don’t know if this is a Hot Take or not, but I am very pro-pretzel.[7] In its most humble form (Rold Gold pretzel sticks, approximately 700,000 in one bag), it is at worst inoffensive and at best mildly satisfying. In its most luxurious form (slathered in warm butter at Auntie Anne’s[8]), it is a marvelous treat and, in a pinch, a meal replacement when you’re trying to find shoes for your son between the end of school and the beginning of basketball practice.[9] Salty but not “ruin your mouth salty” like Tostitos and surprisingly complimentary to the grape juice. 7/10, Would Recommend
CHEEZ-ITS
I held out on using Cheez-Its for communion because I feared the cheese element would be too overpowering at 10:30 am on a Sunday when I’m still drinking my coffee. I can’t explain this but Cheez-Its feel like a late afternoon “power through to dinner” snack not an appropriate replacement for communion. At a certain point, though, I went for it and yeah, Cheez-Its came through with flying colors. The only downside is we couldn’t have Cheez-Its Communion the following week because I ate a whole mess of Cheez-Its right then and there during the sermon immediately following the first Cheez-Its Communion. 8/10, Would Recommend
RITZ CRACKERS
The gold standard of Over the Counter Crackers. If Saltine Crackers are a reminder of how bad life is and how sick you must be if you’re eating Saltine Crackers, Ritz Crackers are the rainbow after the flood, a reminder of God’s promises and the good things that are to come. Glorious and perfectly suited to the juice. As a side note, you know what cracker is not represented in this list? Town House crackers. Because Town House crackers are a cheap knock-off of the Ritz Cracker. The Ritz v Town House War is real, people, and you can’t ride the fence. Pick a side! I have made my choice and I ride or die for Ritz.[10] 9/10, Strongly Recommend
FIREHOOK MEDITERRANEAN BAKED CRACKERS
Y’all had these crackers? Manna from heaven. I don’t know if you can pick these up at just any old grocery store; I’ve only seen them at the super bougie Kroger Marketplace, the one that has a dope Medi bar with olives and cheeses and stuff.[11] Easily the best cracker and, yeah, they’re more expensive than Ritz Crackers and probably like twenty times more expensive than Saltine Crackers because I assume Saltine Crackers come free with the purchase of any Sprite product. But, trust me, totally worth it. They are the perfect amount of salty and BEST OF ALL! They have a real, genuine, unleavened bread/communion cracker feel to them so you can really recreate the In-Church Communion feeling you’ve been missing. Next pandemic, I am stocking up on toilet paper, water, and Firehook Mediterranean Baked Crackers, I promise you that. 10/10, Super Strongly Recommend
OREOS
Yeah, I said it. Oreos. Oreos for communion. Communion Oreos. This is non-traditional, I grant you, but what about The Hills, I ask you, is traditional? For that matter, what about 2020 is traditional? Pandemics are hard, y’all, and self-care is important. Did I get some weird looks from Lindsey and Cooper when I busted out the Oreos for communion? Yeah, you bet I did. But I’m a trendsetter, an innovator, a trailblazer, if you will. And that’s the best communion I’ve ever had, hands down. In fact, I move that, whenever we are able to return to Communion As Normal,[12] the new normal is Oreo Communion. And before anyone asks, “regular Oreos or Double Stuf Oreos”, OBVIOUSLY the answer is Double Stuf. OBVIOUSLY. It is literally double the stuf for the same price. This is a no-brainer. 100/10, The Strongest of Recommends
[1] This is, like, the last serious thing I will say in this email.
[2] Or maybe not, I don’t know, maybe you were better at preparing than I was. Let’s be honest, I spent most of quarantine longingly staring at the basketball goal in the school playground next door.
[3] #SaltineNation
[4] Actually, go ahead and judge me. No regrets.
[5] Okay, maybe not you; maybe it’s just me.
[6] To myself and my wife and child since, you know, quarantine and stuff.
[7] #PretzelNation.
[8] Also, don’t sleep on the pretzel twist at Sonic! Delightful!
[9] Been there!
[10] #RitzNation.
[11] It also used to have a jewelry store in it for some reason? But they’re renovating because it turns out people do not like to buy fancy jewelry approximately seven steps from where they buy toilet paper and grapes. Weird, I know. Who would’ve thought?
[12] Probably in the year 2028 *falls flat on face*
If you enjoyed this foolishness, please check out the essay I published via Gumroad this summer wherein I drafted characters from fantasy movies and TV shows into the NBA. https://gum.co/eFQIf