Special Sauce

A mish-mash of twisted thoughts from a fevered ego. Updated when the spirit moves me, contents vary and may have settled during shipping. Do not open towards eyes. Caution: Ingestion of Special Sauce may cause hair loss, halitosis, and a burning sensation while urinating.



This is a plate full of whoopie pies*. You may know them as Bobbs, Gobbs, or something similar. They're traditionally a soft chocolate cookie with a big old blob of white icing in the middle. Think of them as oreos on steroids. Normally I scrape out 95% of the frosting and then eat the cookies, but that's just me.

Common variants are chocolate with peanut butter frosting, and the ever-popular pumpkin with cream cheese frosting. I've been thinking I should try to make a german chocolate version, with the coconut/pecan frosting in the middle. Why all the wanking about Whoopie Pies? Because I had the best whoopie pie ever this morning.

Big fat lemon cookies with not-too-much lemon frosting in between. I? Am in heaven, or whatever the terrestrial equivalent is. Because hot damn, that was good. I didn't even scrape any frosting out. Maybe S. Clyde Weaver puts crack in their frosting, but... wow. (And their subs? AWESOME. I could live on their turkey sub with sweet & hot peppers, pickles, vinegar, and pepper relish.)

And in case you'd like to make this treat for yourself, here's a spiffy recipe. Or you could try these peanut butter ones. I haven't found a lemon recipe yet, but I'm betting you could whip one up with the help of a cake mix...

In other spiffy news, I was in and out of the DMV in less than 10 minutes today. My DL photo makes me look slightly (ok, a lot more than slightly) crazed, but I like it that way.

*I only wish I baked these, they look mahvellous.


Blogger parcequilfaut said...


I just got my photo redone as well, and I look pissed off. That's because I had freshly waxed dreads and the guy made me take off my scarf.

I thought about flipping out at the dude and telling him I was Muslim, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble, as all that would have changed is that they would have gotten one of the women to take my photo instead.

Luckily, the hologram with Tennessee in it covers up my dread-hawk where my part has grown out.

2:24 PM  

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