Stephen King’s epic novel IT (1986) draws on two distinct time periods—the Losers as children in 1958 and the Losers as adults when they return in 1985—as he considers each time independently and even more significantly, blurs the lines between and synthesizes the two, as the Losers find themselves drawn back to the horrors of their childhoods they had forgotten until they returned to Derry. (Except poor Mike, who never left). 

Kid food in IT mainly consists of what the Losers’ parents make for them and the foods (usually junk food) that they acquire for themselves, spending money from their allowances on sweet treats. 

Starting with the food they choose for themselves, on the last day of school, Ben finds some returnable bottles under a hedge while walking to the library and he immediately “swapped the bottles for cash and most of the cash for candy … He got five red licorice whips and five black, ten rootbeer barrels (two for a penny), a nickel strip of buttons (five to a row, five rows on a nickel strip, and you ate them right off the paper), a packet of Likem Ade, and a package of Pez for his Pez-Gun at home” (177). For better or worse, these sweets are Ben’s comfort foods, feeding his loneliness and continuing his mother’s pattern of using food and “constant feeding” (188) to represent love and safety. Ben also follows in his mother’s footsteps in the prodigious quantities of food she foists on him and much like this buffet of candy on the last day of school, when Ben packs a lunch to take to the Barrens when he’s hanging out with his friends, he packs a LOT of it, once again heavy on the sweets, with “two PB&J sandwiches, one bologna sandwich, a hardcooked egg (complete with a pinch of salt twisted up in a small piece of waxed paper), two fig bars, three chocolate chip cookies, and a Ring-Ding” (299). Ben is mercilessly tormented for his weight and often feels bad about eating so much, though because food and eating are so inextricably linked with his mother and her love for him, he is unable to break these patterns, at least during that childhood summer. (We’ll return to Ben in the new year with a consideration of Carle-Sanders’ recipe for “Ben’s Really Big Salad”). 

One of the IT-inspired recipes Carle-Sanders includes in Castle Rock Kitchen is for “Homemade Fig Bars” and while it is unlikely that Ben’s hard-working single mom had the time or household budget for making these homemade treats, the home-y sense of love and comfort are a shared feature. Carle-Sanders’ fig bar recipe includes a flavorful filling of figs, orange juice, and honey sandwiched between hearty layers of oats and warm spices, for a treat that knocks store-bought fig bars out of the park. I should have tamped down the top layer of the bars a bit more when I made these and as a result, the top of mine was a bit crumbly, but the flavors were great and this is a hearty snack, great fuel for a growing boy out running around with his friends all day. 

Ben’s fellow Losers also frequently spend their pocket money on sweets, including candy and ice cream, though these indulgences are complicated by Mr. Keene, who runs the pharmacy where the ice cream counter is located. Keene offers Eddie an ice cream soda the day of their heart-to-heart conversation when he tells Eddie that his asthma medicine is nothing but a placebo. Years later, when Mike is interviewing Keene about the massacre of the Bradley Gang, he offers Mike licorice whips as they talk, and “Mr. Keene gummed his licorice whip and a little dark drool ran down from the corner of his mouth” (650). There is something predatory and terrifying about the role of sweets and candy in these particular interactions, with the sweetness of the licorice echoed in Keene’s pleasantly nostalgic recollections of that day’s violence. This twisted horrific sweetness is also central to Beverly’s return to her childhood home, where she meets It in its Mrs. Kirsch mask, and the apartment where she grew up turns into a terrifying house of candy and chocolate, an echo of the Hansel and Gretel story. 

When the kids of the Losers Club aren’t indulging in sweets, their main food experiences revolve around what their parents cook for them, like Ben’s mom constantly refilling his plate or Carle-Sanders’ riff on “Pancakes with the Toziers.” The breakfast scene at the Tozier home from which this recipe draws is not particularly impactful (Richie is asking his dad for some money to go to the movies after his allowance has run out and Went recalls that the lawn needs mowing); however, the shared meal, breakfast table conversation, and easy camaraderie between the Toziers is a comforting respite from the larger horrors. As Richie’s dad negotiates for the mowing of the lawn, he teases his son that “That pressure you feel in your midsection may be the five pancakes and two eggs you ate for breakfast, Richie, or it may just be the barrel I have you over” (348). These interactions are full of love and humor, and though Went’s “smile widened to a predatory shark’s grin” (348) as he lays out his terms, his teasing is good-natured and there’s no real danger here. 

As a girl, Beverly takes on more of the domestic and cooking duties at home than her male counterparts. The lighthearted disagreement in the Toziers’ kitchen on the morning of the pancakes serves as a marked contrast to another breakfast scene, in which Bev is making breakfast for her father and packing his lunch for the day, trying to stretch their limited groceries as far as possible to satisfy her father’s appetite. When he asks for hamburger with his breakfast and Bev tells him there’s not much left, she finds herself on thin ice, narrowly avoiding his violence by retreating into obedience with a meek “right away, Daddy” (407). Even after this capitulation, there is a tense moment where “He looked at her for a moment longer. Then the paper went back up and Beverly hurried to the refrigerator to get the meat” (407). Richie’s dad retreats behind his newspaper as a playful negotiation tactic, but when Bev’s father does so, it is only a temporary and tenuous respite from potential abuse and violence. 

Carle-Sanders includes a recipe for “Pancakes with the Toziers” in Castle Rock Kitchen, with a Dutch baby-style riff on the traditional pancake, including a banana-pecan compote. This is definitely a different spin on Richie’s mom’s simple pancakes, but unique and delicious. Esquire’s Neil McRobert has cooked his way through the Castle Rock Kitchen cookbook (you can find his article on that experience here) and reflecting on this recipe, he writes “A Dutch pancake with banana-pecan compote is unlike anything I’ve ever eaten. Gloopy and spongy and syrupy, like unrisen batter. It tastes divine. Does it really have any relevance to IT bar the briefest of mentions by Richie Tozier’s father? No, but who cares? My wife and I have eaten ‘Pancakes with the Toziers’ three Sunday mornings in a row.”  Sometimes the fidelity of the inspiration doesn’t matter quite as much as the deliciousness of the dish. 

In some ways, Carle-Sanders’ take on the Toziers’ pancake breakfast invites readers to occupy a kind of liminal space: we’re not really aligned with the Losers themselves and we’re not really seeing from the perspective of Richie’s mom either, with her simpler pancakes and eggs. We’re at a remove from the horrors of Derry, able to indulge in a bit of refinement and an elevated breakfast repast. After all, Pennywise isn’t chasing us. 

Check out Castle Rock Kitchen here: https://outlanderkitchen.com/castle-rock-kitchen 

[Page numbers are from 2017 film tie-in edition of IT].