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Tiffany Writes:

Peeps in the microwave. This is what Amelia, my stepdaughter, and I do for Easter. It's simple: you take a Peep, you put it on a plate, you put it in the micro. You turn on the microwave but only briefly; you watch through the glass and hover over the "stop" button. There's plenty of time to shriek and giggle and pull the Peep out of the microwave, watch it deflate, and put it back in for more cookin' goodness. Until it explodes or just reaches maximum capacity and then deflates for good.

At this point, Amelia eats it.

Performance artist Lily Gael recently asked me during her piece "Revery" in 2006, during which I described the Peep ritual Amelia and I had performed earlier that day, whether this was a tradition I had inherited from my own mother. Sort of. My mom was always obsessed with Peeps, and gave them to us at Easter. The microwaving part was learned in college, when after ingesting various substances in the Unit III dorms at UC Berkeley, several of us decided to microwave marshmallows, leading to hours of mind-boggling entertainment. Okay, maybe not hours, but surely minutes.

So anyway: Peeps in the microwave.