Be nice to others and share your sweets. Please.

One of my loyal readers, Jodi in Jackson, sent a sweet email a few days ago.

I say "sweet" because it was a recipe for pecan pralines.

Anyone who has read my scribblings for a while knows how much I like a good pecan praline. And as far as I can tell, Jodi's recipe would make some swell pralines.

My addiction to pecan pralines developed when my wife and I lived in Dallas. Mex-Tex restaurants in those good old days offered pralines as an after-dinner treat. They were perfect not only because they tasted so darn good, but also because they were small enough to be eaten without causing any problems with the burrito you just finished.

The pralines I'm talking about are the crumbly kind. There are other pralines that feature more of a caramel consistency. They are delicious. I never met a praline he didn't like. But the sugary, buttery, crumbly pralines are my favorite.

If you think I'm taking all this time to suggest sending a praline or two my way would get you into the "loyal reader" club, you are not only special but pretty dang smart too.

Jodi found her recipe on the Dierbergs website. They are called French Quarter Pralines, but don't let the "French" designation fool you. When you get in certain parts of the South, there's a lot of mixing going on between French, Texan and Mexican. The result: scrumptious things to eat.

We did not, as far as I can remember, have pralines of any derivation when I was growing up on the Killough Valley farm in the Ozarks over yonder. But we had plenty of other good candy.

There was fudge, of course. And peanut brittle. And divinity.

There also was a candy that I favored that most of the kids at Shady Nook School would gladly trade for my store-bought Oreos.

It was a confection made from staples in most any farm kitchen: leftover mashed potatoes, peanut butter and sugar. And probably other ingredients as well.

There are several mashed-potato-and-peanut-butter candy recipes online, but none of them looks exactly like I remember. The potato candy in my memory bank looked and tasted just like the candy called, I think, Peanut Butter Bar. I don't know if the commercial Peanut Butter Bar, found near the Baby Ruth, Butterfinger and Hershey candy bars, contained any mashed potatoes.

In any event, the homemade potato candy was my favorite. The commercial Peanut Butter Bar is still available online, but I can't remember the last time I saw one of these sweets at the candy counter.

Fudge was the homemade candy produced most often when I was growing up. While it was featured prominently at Christmas, fudge also was popular the rest of the year.

Divinity, on the other hand, was nearly always reserved for Christmas. Divinity is, as the name suggests, divine. It was sometimes infused with cherry flavoring, giving the divinity a pink hue instead of the normal chaste white.

Anything with cherries is tops in my book. Christmas isn't Christmas unless there is a box of chocolate-covered cherries nearby. Some chocolate-covered cherries are downright expensive and are marketed as highbrow treats. But most stores, during the Christmas season, feature handy displays of dollar-a-box chocolate-covered cherries. Those are the best.

I could go on and on about my favorite sweet things. In addition to pralines, I am partial to fruitcakes and raisin pie. I have frequently championed these special goodies, as most of you already know.

One of these days I'll have to share my thoughts on persimmon pie made with wild persimmons ripened by the first hard frost of autumn.

Or I could do a whole series on frosted layer cakes, which I consider to be an endangered food species and, therefore, entitled to special attention.

For now, make do with your favorite use of pure cane sugar. And feel free, as always, to share your sweet bounty with others.

Meaning you know who.

Joe Sullivan is the retired editor of the Southeast Missourian.