The Manly Art: Homemade Chex Mix

You may be surprised to learn that The Husband possesses a little known secret talent. During the holidays, he becomes the official family Chex Mix maker.

He’s not a cook, per se. But the few recipes he does make, he does them well. Every year around this time, he asks me to locate his recipe. I retrieve it, carefully preserved in a plastic sleeve, from the back of my recipe notebook, and he sends me to the store with a list of ingredients. I must not deviate from the list. I must not substitute the harder-to-locate red-skinned Spanish nuts for easy-to-find regular peanuts. I cannot replace pretzel sticks with pretzel knots. If I do, I have failed the master.

Sunday before last, I slipped on my coat, Christmas list and car keys in hand, determined to finish the Christmas shopping once and for all. Little Tot was playing with an old TV remote (batteries removed) on the living room floor (he likes to hold it up to his ear and pretend it’s a telephone.  Not sure yet if I should be worried). The Husband comes into the room, scoops Little Tot up, and says, “Come son, it’s time for you to learn the manly art of Chex Mix making.”

I knew right then I had my title for this post.

Beware, we also like to refer to this as Crack Mix. Once you start eating, it’s darn near impossible to stop.

Before anyone asks, no, The Husband says there is no substitute for the six tablespoons of bacon grease. You must use bacon grease. Do not fail the master.