Playing for Peeps

Lonnie Tuner

At the gooey hands of their fans, marshmallow chicks and bunnies leave the Easter basket behind to find fun on the Internet

Who you calling a marshmallow?

Squishy, soft, stretchy, sugary . . . you telling me these are signs of weakness?

You think a cream egg could take this abuse? Any cream egg would break under the pressure.

You think a handful of jelly beans could turn any old person into a Peepcasso? Those little squirts of colored sugar couldn't inspire anyone. Garnish: that's the most jelly beans can hope for.

Those beady-eyed bunnies . . . you know they're hollow, right? Not like us. We're sugar to the core. We're the ones who can make those Easter fantasies come true.

That's right, go ahead. Put us in your dioramas.

Not hot enough for you? Barbecue us over your spring grill.

Afraid of us when we're fresh and tender? Ignore us 'til we're old and crusty. We can take it.

Just remember: What you make of us says more about you than it does about us.

Isn't that the truth?

If it's spring, it's time for the great American Rorschach test: What will you do with your Peeps?

For the first few decades after Peeps were acquired by their current owner, Just Born Inc., in 1953, the blindly staring marshmallow chicks and bunnies were a cheap filler candy in the nation's Easter baskets. Overshadowed by regal rabbits, outclassed by filled eggs and certainly outnumbered by jelly beans, Peeps simply . . . were. Vaguely vanilla, garishly glittering yellow or pink, their entertainment value derived mainly from their tensile qualities - in other words, how far they stretched between teeth and fingers.

Sure, a few adults had semi-secret Peeps habits. They'd break the seal on a few packs and squirrel them away. A few weeks later, depending on the humidity, they'd harvest their stale Peeps and indulge in some surreptitious snacking.

All that was before Peeps went viral. Thank you, World Wide Web, Facebook and YouTube.

And, thank you,, home to the nation's most prestigious Peeps craft competition run by one of the nation's most sober news organizations.

Just as Peeps themselves illustrate that calories abhor a vacuum, the secret obsessions of thousands of Peeps fanatics rushed to fill popular social networking Web sites with images of all that can be done with - and to - marshmallow critters.

The Post's wildly popular diorama contest provided the center of gravity. Spinning in wild orbit are a galaxy of Peeps recipes, crafts, lore, and toothpick–wielding Peeps dueling each other into microwave-oven induced quivers.

There's no reining them in now.

"This is brand ownership at its pinnacle," said Sue Northey, senior vice president and director of brand planning for Cramer-Krasselt, a Milwaukee-based advertising and marketing agency. "Consumers own the brand because they create the stories. The Peeps people don't own the brand."

Oh, yeah? Maybe they didn't get the memo. Besides putting out a few sugary nuggets (Orange Peeps debuted this year! 8,000 Peeps bunnies stacked ear to toe would equal the height of the Sears Tower! Each Peeps chick has 28 calories!), the media relations staff of Just Born plays it short and straight.

You got questions about Peeps? Is the company surprised by the brand's sudden personality transplants? And how might corporate honchos seek to make the most of said consumer enthusiasm? The spokespeeps might have the answers, but they're not sharing.

But, as Northey said, it's not the Peeps peeps who are in charge any more. It's peeple like the Raddenbach family of Janesville, who have adopted the gruesome tradition of roasting Peeps over an open fire.

Back in 2004, dad Jason Raddenbach didn't intend to get his young family hooked on skewering cute baby animals and holding them over flames until their sugar-sprinkled outsides bubbled and caramelized like a dessert in a fine French restaurant.

"We first tried roasting Peeps because we didn't have any marshmallows, but we did have some leftover Peeps," says Raddenbach. "They made a really nice burned sugar crust on the outside. And of course, the inside was gooshy. Now it's a family tradition."

It's a family tradition to pervert these lumps of trademarked innocence?

"It's like the morbid fascination of eating a gingerbread man," said Raddenbach. "Like, 'Oh, no, I'm eating his arm!' But it doesn't bother the conscience too much."

Nor is Nate Towne's conscience rattled.

"They're like a mannequin. They don't have their own personality. You can put their personality on them," said the Madison resident. "I like that a Peep doesn't have a back story. It's what it is and it is what you can do."

What Towne does is decorate with peeps. He makes tableaux, such as an Easter parade, for the center of the dining table for Easter brunch. He nests a Peep in the center of each guest's plate, "as a starter."

But his pluperfect Peepness was achieved when he invented the Peep wreath: a fake wreath adorned by Peeps resplendent in nonedible craft glitter. (Towne sprays the Peeps with adhesive, then tosses them in a paper bag with the glitter; sprays on sealant; and runs a string through them.) "I give them as hostess gifts," he related. "They always say, 'Oh, how unique!' "

Peeps are a weapon of mess destruction in the hands of longtime Milwaukee resident Liz Kmezich. Members of her family like to ambush others with invasions of Peeps platoons in beds, drawers and bathtubs.

Home décor notwithstanding, much of the Peepiverse polarizes into first the fresh vs. stale camps, and then into the Easter loyalists vs. holiday-agnostics.

Count Watertown resident Heather Hertziger as a stale loyalist. She won't eat any Peep before its time, typically aging Peeps for two months or more. "If I'm going to eat my sugar, it's going to be properly stale," said Hertziger, who claims to hoard only four packages a season.

That would be the Easter season. Just Born's attempt to stretch the brand to Halloween (bats, ghosts), Christmas (trees, snowmen) and beyond (hearts) is "just wrong," says Hertziger. "Christmas and Valentine's Day have their own candy already."

By crashing other holidays, Peeps run the risk of being candy non grata, commented Kelly O'Keefe, professor of brand strategies at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, Va.

The universal appeal of the original Peep, he says, is its value as a tabula rasa.

"They are non-offensive. They don't have a lot of presence of their own."

There are not a lot of Peeps haters out there, observed O'Keefe.

"When there's uncertainty in the economy, the consumer gravitates to comfort brands and comfort products. Those things that make us feel that life is a little simpler. And there's not much simpler than a Peep."


Peeps as a topping for crème brûlée or sweet potato casserole? Why not?!

Caramelized Peeps Topping

• 1 package Peeps (any season)

• 1 completed recipe that requires a toasted sugar topping (such as crème brûlée or sweet potato casserole)

Preheat broiler.

Slice Peeps in half lengthwise. If using chick Peeps, decapitate them. (Save the bottoms for snacking or hot chocolate.)

Layer Peeps slices or heads evenly on top of brûlée or casserole (which must be in a broiler-safe pan). It is fine if they touch. Do not overlap. Be sure the sugared coating faces up.

Place under broiler set on high, about 3 inches from heat source. After about 40 seconds, the Peeps will start to smoke slightly. Leave in broiler 10 seconds more; this assures a caramelized crust.

Remove and serve immediately.

For a special Peeps treat, turn the marshmallowy critters into a snack-on-a-stick. They're almost too cute to eat.


• Various marshmallow Peeps

• White, milk and/or semi sweet chocolate

• Popsicle sticks or lollipop sticks

• Colorful sprinkles (nonpareils) or decorative jimmies

• Ribbons for decoration (optional)

Impale each Peep on a stick.

Place chocolate in medium bowl and melt in microwave, stirring until smooth.

Dip Peeps halfway into chocolate, or coat fully with chocolate, if desired. Let excess drip off. Sprinkle Peepsicles with nonpareils or jimmies.

Place on a cookie sheet lined with wax paper. Or, stand upright in small drinking glasses or cups.

Repeat until you have the desired amount of Peepsicles. Refrigerate just until chocolate hardens.

Tie a ribbon around the sticks to form a bow. Store in an airtight container until ready to serve.

Note: Peepsicles also could be inserted into the top of a cake as decoration or individually in cupcakes.

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