You've probably seen these Hickory Farms party platters millions of times. Maybe you've wondered who actually buys them. That question's been on my mind for years; I've never physically seen anyone break out a loaf of Hickory Farms pig or spread Hickory Farms almost-cheese on a Hickory Farms almost-cracker, but there they are, year after year, in volume.
I guess they're just a novelty that've become too much of a tradition in some families to start skipping out on now. Hickory Farms' platters have been around for decades, and they haven't really changed in the slightest. You could even argue that they're just been restocking whatever unsold food stock they had into the next year's batch dating back as far as '74. Anyone who's tasted the included crackers can attest. It is pretty awful, nasty tasting food, but who cares? There's tons of holiday foods that must be made regardless of actual consumption. In my family, it's those little fried sugar balls with the multicolored sprinkle dots. Of the 600,000 sugar balls made by my mother since I was born, I'd say a total of six were eaten. And that's only because my grandmother is such a good sport with double dog dares.
There's surely plenty of families who stage holiday parties that aren't complete without a Hickory Farms platter, but mine wasn't one of them. Through years of seeing ads for the gunk in the Sunday circulars, not to mention the huge displays at virtually every department store I've ever been to, I decided it was time to pick one of the platters up and see what all the fuss was about. Thirteen dollars and a strange look from the old cashier lady later, here we are.
There's several versions of the platters, some much larger than others. Mine is a good-sized average, containing the most typical offerings -- plus a free Christmas ornament. Yay for bonuses. As with most Hickory Farms platters, cheese played a major role. This particular set came with four different cheeses, each more offensive than the last. Actually, they're not too terrible, but any cheese that'd crafted to survive the heated aisles of Wal-Mart from October till Christmas probably isn't going to win any awards from fancy food magazines.
Each of the cheeses were soft spreading versions -- we've got two cylinders of "Smoked Flavor," a soap bar-shaped loaf of "Cheese Spread With Onion," a hotel soap bar-shaped loaf of "Natural Smoked Cheese Spread," and a mysterious stick of something known only as "Cheddy." Regardless of the names, they all taste perfectly the same. Like spoonfuls of Velveeta left out on the table for a few days. The reason Hickory Farms platters are so successful as "edible presents?" There's never a chance that the gift-giver would prematurely eat the gift.
Secondly, here's two boxes of "Cracked Wheat Wafers," each containing three crackers. Remember those vending machines that afforded you the means to feed zoo animals? This shit tasted so much better when I was in kindergarten.
Beautiful, isn't it? This is what the holidays are all about. Diarrhea.
Fortunately, Hickory Farms provides something to help clean the palette after all the assorted death cheeses and bird seed crackers. Strawberry sucking candy! Everybody's had these things at one time or another, remembered not so much for their taste, but rather the strawberry-styled wrappers they arrive in. The candy isn't bad, and the series of lumpy grooves on each piece makes you feel like you're eating a Lifesaver on steroids. The hole is still present; it's just obscured by candy muscle mass.
And it tastes like berries!!!
Okay, now we're up to the heavy hitters. HAM and BEEF STICK. Whatever you're envisioning, believe me...it's much worse. The Beef Stick ("Beef Summer Sausage"), is absolutely terrible for you. Even when compared to a normal salami stick, it weighs in almost triply bad in the nutritional department. This would be more forgivable if it was, you know, good -- it's kind of like someone grabbed a bunch of sliced bologna, mushed it in their hands and covered it with what's apparently some type of cattle's lips. It's absolutely sopping wet, with juice freely dripping downward as you squeeze the stick. Like Flavor-Ice, Hickory Farms' Beef Stick is one of those rarities that's both a snack and a beverage.
Worst of all is the fleshy sound made as you slice parts of it off. Sounds kind of like stabbing a dog in the stomach -- not that I know what that'd sound like, but if you picture it, the Beef Stick provides the same feeling. Trust me, this has nothing to do with what it is. I couldn't care less what's in there, but it's just so much grosser than even the most seemingly similar products. Maybe mine was just undercooked.
Still, the Beef Stick is clearly the lesser of two evils. The "Holland Royale Brand" container of ham is undeniably repulsive in all possible aspects, from looks to smell to health to "holy crap, Hickory Farms is trying to feed us cat food" and beyond. Check it out...
It seriously looks and smells just like what we feed our cats -- that "sliced chicken in gravy" shit from Friskies. If you think I'm wrong, keep in mind that every last one of our twelve dozen cats lined up and meowed as I opened the beastly can up. They could not -- absolutely could not comprehend that this wasn't for them. It was just too strikingly similar to be anything but Friskies' "sliced chicken in gravy." I imagined it was going to be something along the lines of Spam, which wouldn't have been terribly palatable, but at least it'd be the kind of gruesomeness we're used to seeing. If this is Spam, it's Spam made from terminally bruised animals, chewed and regurgitated by other animals. Coated in bile.
Still, like I said -- Hickory Farms' platters aren't really meant for eating. They're just a traditional thing. Prop 'em up in the corner before the start of your holiday party so there's something to point to whenever you want to bring up how well-prepared of a host you are. They serve the same purpose as table candles and flowery centerpieces. So long as you're not arming people with paper plates and plastic butterknives, there's nothing wrong with a Hickory Farms platter.
Oh, there's the free ornament. Mom's Christmas present: check.
To give you an idea of how long Hickory Farms has been peddling their cheese and meat blocks, this commercial is at least twenty years old. In it we find a shot of a "Hickory Farms" store in some unnamed mall. These stores still exist, though in far fewer numbers these days. They were havens of holiday foods and gourmet offerings, and usually, the wares were of far better quality than the crap K-Mart sells boxes of for fifteen bucks.
The store has an interesting customer today -- Santa Claus himself, in his "everyday guy" fatigues. Santa has a "Christmas gift problem," prompting the lovely Hickory Farms employee gal to help out. Her advice? "Try a beef stick."
Wow, Santa sure looks insane. I'm reminded of Ernest Borgnine's stellar work in 1975's "The Devil's Rain." He played the Devil. Santa is most pleased with the beef's taste, though it's gotta be an easy sell for someone previously limited to eating whale meat.
In the end, Santa's problems are solved: it's Hickory Farms' party platters for all of the good boys and girls. Must've been hard for loyal kids to rally behind the whole "Santa is REAL" movement when he staring giving out pieces of old sausage and cheese that doubled as prop bird shit.
In a surprising twist, Playmobil's gift for December 16th was none of than Mare's very own brother, Mark Winningham! Mark is a sort of antithesis to everything his sister stands for. He never hurts people, hates pink blouses, and he hasn't once met a snowman he didn't like. For unknown reasons, the December 16th giftbox was stashed, seemingly by intention, behind a pile of garbage far from the citizens of Playmobiland. As Mark crawled from his filthy prison, he couldn't help wondering why he wasn't being greeted and handed food from the previous gifts. Who would've thrown one of the fabled gift boxes in the trash? Who?!
It took some time, but Mark eventually found his rightful place amongst the holiday gifts of days past. His sister greeted him with all the sincerity of Satan, claiming that his box must've gotten with the trash by mistake. Mark knew better. He remembered what Mare used to do to him throughout childhood, and how often he used to wake up in piles of garbage, bound and gagged. As the years went on, Mark grew stronger. Eventually, he became taller than his sister, and certainly able to break her like a twig with little effort. Because of a vow made to his mother, Mark would never actually hurt Mare.
Still, considering that he just woke up in a pile of dead and discarded family pets and used baby diapers, he would sorta enjoy stabbing her up the ass with a really sharp car.
Upon meeting the other living Playmobil gifts, it wasn't hard for Mark to deduce that his sister was up to her old tricks. She'd been keeping all of the cool presents for herself, and treating that "Mista Snowman" character like crap. Assuming himself as some sort of dark-haired angelic avenger sent from God to right wrongs, Mark decides to put an end to Mare's many bouts of chicanery...
Mark: ...and I don't want to see you with Mista Snowman's broom again!
Mare: Why?
Mark: Because it's his!
Mare: I need a better "why," Mark.
Mista: Dude! Thanks so much for saving me. I was getting really worried.
Mark: Don't mention it. Hey, any idea why I can't get the presets to work on this thing?
Mista: Do you think your sister is going to be okay with this, though? I mean...okay with me not being treated like total shit?
Mark: She'll get used to it. Besides, Dad put me in charge.
Mista: Where's your parents now?
Mark: Mare killed and ate them.
M.B.: So...your brother's pretty pushy, huh?
Mare: You can say that again.
M.B.: I guess you must be pretty mad at him. Wanna have sex?
Mare: Only if you agree to help me out with a little something tomorrow.
