These jalapeno poppers made grown men cry

Sarah Stone, Special to The News Leader

When Snapdragon Pho moved into town, it confirmed in my mouth that Staunton is well on its way to having every single variety of food within walking distance of City Hall. We have late-night soup, we have pizza by the slice, we’ve got burritos as big as your nephew’s head…

But we don’t have jalapeno poppers.

This makes me sad. Where are the jalapeno poppers? They’re snacky. They’re classic. They’re versatile enough to please eaters from all walks of life: baked, fried, grilled, bacon-wrapped…. (This describes the poppers, not the people. Or what you will.)

I remember having my first jalapeno popper in college when Burger King served them for a hot second: they were mildly spicy, super cheesy, and pleasantly greasy. You won’t find them at Burger King anymore. I suppose if I were desperate I could drive to Sonic in Waynesboro and get an order of Ched ‘R’ Peppers. But I want to eat them now. I want to eat them downtown. I want to eat them with my friends and tentatively offer the last one to everyone else until someone says, “No, you should have it.”

Since I can’t find a restaurant downtown to make these for me, I’ll just have to make them for myself. But I don’t want to deep-fry them like tradition dictates. (I seldom desire a greasy odor in my house; I favor smells like crisp linen or lavender.) Baking them will be healthier and way less work. I’m going to make these as simple as possible. I text friends to let them know that jalapeno poppers are happening and they need to get to my house to help me eat them.

My husband nabs a hefty bag of fresh jalapenos from the produce clearance shelf at Kroger. I pick up Philadelphia Cream Cheese (chive and onion flavor) and two cans of Pillsbury Crescent Rolls. I’m not going to deep-fry these guys, but by God, I will wrap them in bread.

Friends start spilling from the living room to the kitchen. They see the mound of jalapeno peppers and get excited. “Do you need any help?” I assure them that this is a one-person job. My friend Zoe overhears this and responds by grabbing a knife to help me halve and gut the jalapenos. (I’m really glad she did. I don’t want to exaggerate, but I think there are a million of them.)

The peppers are little wrinkly, but looks don’t matter; my friends all know that what matters is on the inside. Zoe and I scoop all the seeds out of each pepper since most of our friends prefer mild spice. We fill each half with the chive and onion cream cheese and swaddle each little jalapeno baby in half of a crescent roll triangle. Into the oven at 375 for 14 minutes, and these babies come out golden like my skin on a summer day.

But they’re HOT. Oh, man. So, so hot. Yes, they’re hot in temperature, but the spice is making all my friends cry like Stan Lee just died.