Summers in Central Pennsylvania dragged on like the buzz of cicadas in our ears. My brother and I waded in the shallow creek near the train tracks for relief from the hot wind that lasted long into the night. Our parents were relieved to have us out of the house, our complaints of boredom falling on deaf ears. But after curfew, evenings proved a challenge to us all. We knew it was really hot when our parents ordered us to the car and headed out Route 15 to Bechtel's Dairy for an ice cream cone to break the heat and the tempers. I picked my flavor wisely. No plain vanilla or humdrum chocolate -- it was teaberry for me. I loved the creamy pink color and cool minty flavor. And I relished every lick, knowing it could be awhile until the next cone.

Once marching band practice replaced lazy afternoons by the creek, Purity Candy became the spot for my fix. I bypassed their homemade chocolates and confections and went right for the teaberry-flavored candy. Smaller than a red hot, it was sweet, crunchy, and addictive. I snuck those after-school purchases, but the swath of bright pink on my tongue betrayed me every time.

"Teaberry Productions" is a tribute to my long lost summer friend, and to the vivid connection between food and memory alive in us all -- even when it's really hot.