The Origins of Grandpa Po’s Originals

The origins of Grandpa Po’s Originals (aka Nutra Nuts) appears in this chapter in “A Cup of Tea on the Commode.” The full story and more will be revealed in my follow-up memoir “Slightly Unsalted.” Stay tuned.

Grandpa Po’s Originals were the Snack of the Day on Rachael Ray

Better Than Food

Aside from my father’s corny jokes and avoiding Mom’s shopping marathons, most of our family traditions revolved around food. Dad was clever. He hid his lack of culinary skills by entertaining the troops. His show magically made everything he cooked up taste better. When serving his creations, he often proclaimed them “Better than food.” And who were we to disagree?

His crazy-shaped pancakes always delighted, as did his orange, olive, and maraschino cherry salad — even with those salty anchovies mixed in. Dad roasted chestnuts all year long, and could satisfy the six of us with a single pomegranate. His made-from-leftovers spaghetti sauces and soups — which he called “Baseball Zoup” during baseball season — were weekly staples. He introduced us to lentils (yay), but also liver and onions (yuck). He made an art out of taking day-old corn on the cob, peeling off one row at a time, distributing whole kernels into our eager hands. All that was left was a perfectly clean cob, which, of course, went right into the compost heap. He stuffed ice cream cones with cold mashed potatoes that never melted on a sweltering summer day. We all joined in on the Coconut Toss, where we threw one, drained of its juices, down the basement steps until we heard that magical sound — crack! It didn’t take long after for us to stuff ourselves silly with every morsel of white meat.

Mom didn’t need a show. While she was no Julia Child in the kitchen, she did excel at baking. One of my favorites was her “still-the-best-lasagna-ever.” Her cherry, apple, and pumpkin pies always melted in your mouth, warmed your stomach, and made every holiday much better. Her vast array of Christmas cookies could put any Michelin-starred pastry chef to shame. They were all so good that even when I held my hand high above my head and declared, “I’m filled up to here,” I always managed to stuff in another one, or two, or three. I still have fond yet foggy memories of getting tipsy testing her terrible-tasting Whiskey Balls (say that three times fast, and then try it after a few Whiskey Balls).

The Origins of Grandpa Po’s Originals

In 1963, Dad introduced us to something unique and truly special, his half-popped popcorn snack he called “Nutra Nuts.” And a new family tradition was born. His motivation, in part, was his fear of impending dental bills since all his children inherited in various degrees his sweet tooth. Hoping to protect his wallet and our teeth, he set out to invent a snack, healthier and yet as addicting as that darn candy.

How my father came up with the idea remains a mystery — not a mum’s the word mystery, but a genuine mystery. How he achieved success was not. Dad spent hours experimenting in his lab, Mom’s kitchen. He customized her pots. Splattered hot oil all over and filled the house with fumes night after night until he came up with these crunchy golden nuggets packed with corn flavor. But he wasn’t done yet. For extra protein, he mixed in roasted soy nuts decades before they became popular in the US. For the final touch, he added a pinch of salt, and voilà: Nutra Nuts were born.

Friends and family couldn’t get enough of them. But after years of attempts to acquire a patent or to sell the secret process failed, Dad grew disenchanted with the whole idea. By the early eighties, he gave up on his dream entirely. Only Mom’s kitchen was happy about it.

In 1992, during our third family reunion, the story of Nutra Nuts came up. I thought how sad it was that my nieces and nephews never got a chance to taste their Grandpa Po’s snack. My passion for Nutra Nuts never waned. I often assisted my father in the kitchen and spent many of my days at Our Lady of Mount Carmel drawing plans for the future Nutra Nuts factory.

When I returned to Los Angeles, I called Dad and told him, “I’m reviving Nutra Nuts. Please give me the secret formula.”

He did, and though I cannot share the “how,” I can tell you that it is a messy, and at times dangerous, process. You must protect yourself with goggles, a hat, an oil-resistant apron, and oven mitts. Still, I nearly burned down my studio apartment and died by asphyxiation.

But Nutra Nuts were reborn and quickly devoured. I risked another fire, made more, and brought a batch with me to the next family reunion. My dad’s smile made my near-death experience worth it. The family gobbled them up in no time, just like we did so many years ago.

My family’s response, along with my friends and contacts in Hollywood, convinced me it was time to share Nutra Nuts with the world. With Dad’s approval, I began researching the industry, attending trade shows, and visiting stores. There was still nothing like it out there on the market. The timing in the mid-nineties was perfect. The soy craze was just beginning, and since organic snacks were becoming popular, I went organic with Nutra Nuts. I shared logo and packaging designs with my dad for his input.

But before Nutra Nuts became a reality, my father died. One year later, in 1998, Michael and I founded the Better Than Food company to honor him. Dad didn’t want us to use his image, but I wanted his name on every bag. So, Grandpa Po’s Originals replaced Nutra Nuts. This also eliminated confusion in the marketplace since there were no actual nuts in it. We first introduced Dad’s original flavor, Slightly Unsalted — his play on words — and we added Slightly Spicy and Slightly Sweet soon after. Within a few years, we grew his snack into a national brand. And most who tasted it would agree, they were indeed better than food.