Nothing But Respect for My President Whipped Crème

This is a feature story from Unwinnable Monthly #180. If you like what you see, grab the magazine for less than ten dollars, or subscribe and get all future magazines for half price.

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In 1985, Larry Cohen released The Stuff, a satirical horror film about a yogurt-like substance (the eponymous Stuff) that becomes the most beloved snack food in America, despite being a living, parasitic organism that takes over people’s bodies and turns them into zombies.

Larry Cohen films are many things, but subtle is rarely one of them.

Despite its rather laughable logline, The Stuff was an unsparing allegory about not only capitalism and consumerism but the way that, under capitalism, consumerism becomes culture . . . maybe the only kind we have left.

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Because of the kind of work I do, I frequently get emails from PR folks offering to send me books or movies for review and sometimes even inviting me to events both local and more far flung for potential coverage at one of the various venues where I work as a freelance writer. Sometimes I take them up on their offers. More often, the proposed book or movie or experience is not one that I’ll have a chance to write about, so I pass.

Recently, however, I received what was for me a first. At a glance, it was a PR email that looked very much like any of the others I receive on a daily basis. And like many of the ones I had been receiving recently (it arrived in my inbox on September 10) it was structured around the run-up to Halloween. There was only one difference. Rather than a spooky book or movie or a haunted house or pop-up bar it was a press release about . . . whipped cream.

“The weather is getting colder,” the email began, “which means that spooky season is approaching! This October, add a touch of magic to your Halloween treats with President Whipped Crème. You’re sure to bring smiles to every face with this rich, creamy whipped cream, perfect for transforming classic Halloween desserts into unforgettable delights. With its homemade taste that captures the autumn season, President Whipped Crème is the ultimate choice for your seasonal creations.”

Not quite “Enough is never enough… of The Stuff!” but, with its evocation of the spirt of the season and its implication that your preexisting Halloween traditions are not complete without it, it captures that same sense that consumption is culture.

What I thought of, as I read that email, was an aspect of the season that is as inextricably linked with Halloween as grinning pumpkins or costumed trick-or-treaters: Those seasonal magazines filled with recipes and craft ideas that are always lurking near the check-out stands at the grocery store this time of year.

Does anyone actually buy those? They must, because they inevitably then show up at thrift stores later on. But I’ve never known anyone who did. Despite this, they always show up, every year, like clockwork, a reminder as reliable as the changing leaves that the seasons are shifting and that the only outlet for your stifled creativity may just come from what and how you consume . . . so you’d better make a pumpkin pie with a Jack-o’-lantern face topped with some President Whipped Crème, using the recipe on page 47.

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I replied to the email letting them know that, while I would be happy to have some free whipped cream, I didn’t really write for any verticals where coverage of it would be likely. I got an email back the same day saying that, nonetheless, they would be happy to send some over.

Honestly, I had no idea what getting a sample of whipped cream in the mail would look like. If I received anything at all, I fully expected it to be an envelope with some coupons that would let me pick up a free container of President Whipped Crème at Harris Teeter, Stop & Shop, Raley’s, Lowes Foods, Publix or Whole Foods where, the email assured me, it would be available beginning October 1.

I replied to the email and largely forgot about it. Two weeks later to the day, UPS dropped off a 10-inch square box on my porch. Inside was a large, silvery padded pouch of the kind made for shipping things that need to stay refrigerated. Inside that was a whole lot of bubble wrap, no less than seven ice packs, and a single 10 oz. spray can of French-Style Gourmet President Whipped Crème in the Original Madagascar Vanilla flavor, “great on sundaes, waffles, desserts, and hot drinks,” according to the back of the can.

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So, how is it? I mean, it’s pretty good. I’m not exactly a connoisseur of whipped cream but it’s tasty, the vanilla flavor is rich and it comes out of the can in a pleasing shape. I haven’t tried it on sundaes, waffles, desserts, or hot drinks, but Grace put some on an iced coffee and I ate some off a spoon.

Does each peak hold beautifully from kitchen to plate, as the can promises? Is it sure to impress? Will it make my family love me? Turn an ordinary dessert into a cherished memory? Offer some small recompense for my own faded dreams?

Maybe not, but it would probably taste really good on a pumpkin pie.

As of this writing, we’ve eaten less than half the can, and the rest is sitting in my refrigerator door. So far as I know, it’s behaving itself in there. Not getting up and crawling around on its own at night. Not transforming me into any more of a zombie than I already was.

Even if it isn’t an alien parasite masquerading as yogurt, though, the question when we consume anything under capitalism is always going to remain, “Are we eating it, or is it eating us?”

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Orrin Grey is a writer, editor, game designer, and amateur film scholar who loves to write about monsters, movies, and monster movies. He’s the author of several spooky books, including How to See Ghosts & Other Figments. You can find him online at orringrey.com.