Omnomicon

Now I’m going to tell you: my mother’s whoopie pie recipe is SO GOOD that I will often tell people that I don’t like whoopie pies at all, because I have yet to find another recipe that I actually like. Other people’s whoopie pies are too cakey, or too cookie-like, or (as is usually the case) the filling is pure frosting, which is WAY too sweet and totally the wrong texture altogether. My mom’s whoopie pies were famous in our circles, and she generously provided them whenever demanded, particularly when visiting my Uncle and Aunt in Maine for Thanksgiving and Christmas. I ate more whoopie pies in my childhood than cupcakes, brownies or cookies combined; they were a true and strong family tradition.

Antonia, a faithful reader, pointed to a NYTimes article about the Whoopie Pie and well hey, I’m not usually up to snuff on anything topical, and since I have an authentic family recipe on hand, I am suddenly compelled to showcase my (rather specialized) expertise!

A proper whoopie pie is not merely some cloying abomination of sugar and fat. No no, it is delicate in its way, the sweetness ever-present and yet subdued. Please do not compare them to a Devil Dog or Moon Pie. Please do not make them with cake mix and tub frosting. A whoopie pie is a very specific delicacy and there are rules.

A proper whoopie pie “cookie” is a medium-brown shade, fairly dry (not all oily and moist like a Little Debbie’s snack), but still somewhat densely cakelike, maybe a vein or two where the scoop let go of the batter. They crack ever so slightly, but sometimes they don’t and maybe that has something to do with the barometric pressure. I dunno, they still taste right and seem to have the right texture, so aesthetics aside, it’s fine either way.

The proper whoopie pie filling is made with Crisco (which, apparently, no longer contains trans fats), butter, whole milk, sugar, a tiny smidge of flour and a regular portion of vanilla. Did you notice that it has no Fluff in it? That’s because Fluff is for fluffernutters, not whoopie pies. You will also notice that the filling is not a frosting, but a creme. While eating, one will lose all the filling out the sides and must open the pie, collect up the creme that has splooshed out back onto the bottom piece, then recreate the sandwich, only to do it all again in the next bite or two. This is the proper way to eat a whoopie pie.

This process presented many lovely photo ops. Let’s take a look!

This one reminds me of a dusty construction site.

The cookies can be removed from the cookie sheet almost immediately, but you really need to use a metal spatula and carefully scrap them off. I like the texture underneath, it gets a little crispy as it cools and it is so so satisfying to snack on the odd unmatched whoopie pie cookie before they’re frosted.

The creme takes a convenient 10 minutes to make, which you can most likely complete between the time the first batch of cookies goes into and comes out of the oven. I’ve found it nearly impossible to make the creme without an electric mixer (stand or hand, your choice), and sometimes it takes longer than others. For the first several minutes of mixing, your creme will look like this: kinda gross.

And then you’ll hear a cherub giggle, and an angel wing will brush against your shoulder as suddenly the creme whips up into this glorious appearance. The texture is extremely creamy, but still looks like this.

After a little assembly . . .

Since I started making my own food, I’ve lived on these for days at a time. Not particularly healthy nor affluent days, but certainly enjoyable ones.

 

 

Mom’s Famous Whoopie Pies
makes about 14 after batter & cookie sampling
brought to you by very fortunate family ties.

Drop by the small tablespoonful onto an ungreased cookie sheet—a tablespoon-sized bakery scoop works best. Bake exactly 8 minutes at 375^o, see if a toothpick comes out clean, and if it doesn’t, bake another 2 minutes (10 total). Upon extraction from the oven, remove from pan immediately to wire rack to cool.

 

And now the creme filling (reminder: it’s not frosting, guys)

1/2 c margarine or butter (room temp is best)
1/2 c Crisco (my mother is insistent that this MUST be Crisco and CANNOT be generic shortening, nor substituted in any way . . . but if you do get it to work with a substitution, please let me know!)
1 c sugar
1 tbsp  flour
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 c warm whole milk (20 seconds in the microwave should do it)

Beat with a mixer (stand or hand, your choice) for-freakin-ever. It will start out just like, well, lumps of Crisco floating in milk, then bits will get smaller and smaller, then it’ll slosh around for a little bit, and, much like the butter making process, you’ll be wondering if this will ever become anything or if you maybe messed it up somehow. Suddenly, about five minutes later, your mix will look weird for a second, and within moments your slushy mess will turn into a glorious white creme, smooth and perfect in a way rarely seen outside the confines of uber-processed food with chemicals you can’t pronounce that are not even available to the consumer in their pure form.

 

Assembly

As soon as the whoopie cookies are cool, match each whoopie with its closest brother in size—even if yours didn’t all come out the same size, evenly matched whoopies will look much much nicer. Spread some filling on the flat side of one, then place the second on top. Repeat. This does not need to be done immediately before serving, as the filling tends to maintain its consistency surprisingly well, and some (like my mom) would argue that a day-old whoopie pie is even better than fresh. I like them all.

No need to refrigerate, sealed plastic or plastic wrap will keep them fresh.

. . . and that’s it. Congratulations! You just made the best whoopie pies known to man.

 

 

Not like it’s diet food or anything, but these are not quite as totally terrible as I thought they’d be!
Nutrition Summary (for 1 whoopie pie of yield 15): 330 calories, 17g fat, 1g fiber; 8 Weight Watchers Points

Hola! Como esta? Bueno!

My Spanish isn’t what it never used to be, but guess who has two thumbs and just celebrated a 25th birthday.

->this gal<-, that’s who!

I received so many wonderful gifts from my closest pals, and I include among them the gift of everyone’s presence at my karaoke bash, which is all I really wanted anyway. But SOME people (yes, I am talking about you, Erin) are apparently way the hell too cool and just had to go out and make my birthday extra-special—and I guess I can’t complain because you guys,

Check

This

Out.

Are you frickin kidding?! Totally adorable, funky, completely vintage and all mine. So I prefer family items because what’s vintage really without a good story, right? OH WELL HEY IT CAME WITH ONE OF THOSE TOO.

This lovely oven proof cassarole [sic] was a Christmas gift from Billy to his Nana Mary Nicotera in 1971. Nana cherished it and never used it except to display on the kitchen counter. A lovely family heirloom which could be used as a cookie jar.

Billy purchased it at a fine quality gift shop in Marblehead. Unfortunately the ID card of the manufacturer went astray but it is of fine quality.
Bea Cannata
Billy’s mom 4/15/78

I can’t even believe that I have come to own a 40-year-old piece that may or may not have ever been used, but if it has, it certainly doesn’t show. So until I find a suitable cherry-popping recipe, I will cherish it and admire the class it brings to my kitchen counter.

Thank you, Erin, for sharing the most fantastic taste of anyone I know.

So this is completely unrelated to my birthday, other than I made it the morning of receiving The Great Gift. Finnish pancakes! There’s not too much in the way of ingredients, but they all pull their weight in a crescendo of souffle-like tastiness.

Man, that ingredient set is as white as Rhode Island.

I love the egg yolk peeking out from under there. Hello, little egg yolk!

What makes pancakes Finnish is, apparently, that they are pancaked in the oven rather than the stove top. This is a great way to serve a large number of people piping hot pancakes all at once.

Serving suggestions (2).

Serve with love.

Finnish Pancakes
Courtesy of Massachusetts Poultry Association, Inc.
Buy lots of eggs!!!

4 tbsp butter, melted
4 eggs
2 c milk
1/2 c flour
2 tbsp sugar
1/2 tsp salt

Preheat oven to 450^o, and pour the melted butter into a 9″x16″ baking pan.

Beat eggs until foamy but not whippy, until well-blended. Beat with milk, flour, sugar and salt. Pour into pan with butter and bake 20-23 minutes.

Serve any way you like! Serving suggestions pictured include powdered sugar & cinnamon and real Massachusetts maple syrup.

 

 

nutrition summary: (for 1 of 8 servings, made with fat free egg substitute & skim milk) 115 calories, 6g fat, <1g fiber; 3 weight watchers points

So I generally stay away from baking recipes as they are very tempting and I can’t eat much of them, but I continually read Baking Bites as a vicarious way of enjoying baking. Nicole posted a recipe yesterday that I really couldn’t pull myself back from, and as my self control has improved to the point where I can enjoy one of something, I decided to replicate her recipe for Sugar Donut Muffins.

These are lighter than making doughnuts at home, as they are not deep fried, but they do have nutrition information that’s just barely lower fat than a Dunkie’s Sugar Raised Donut, so they’re not exactly health food. At the same time, these are delicate and divine, and will appeal to the snobbiest of food snobs (like me). They remind me of nothing so much as the sugar donuts you find in Chinese buffets. Classy, I know!

I followed the recipe to the letter for once, and the only change I recommend is waiting to brush the tops with butter until five minutes later, or leaving it out altogether. When it came time to eat these, the tops were a little soggy.

It’s go time! Check out this sugar and egg sludge I made! The texture was really cool, but unfortunately difficult to capture in photo form. So you’ll just have to make ’em to see.

The tiniest amount of nutmeg goes a long way with these.

The batter starts as a dough . . .

. . . then quickly goes back to being a batter.

Sloppily fill your clean, greased muffin pan that looks dirty no matter how many times you scrub it. Remember, no liners! These things still need an outside treatment.

After baking, these babies are so smooth, they almost look more like cupcakes than muffins. But they’re neither, they’re really doughnuts, promise.

Now take the muffins into your veiny old lady hands and roll them in sugar.

It’s a satisfying part of the process. Perhaps the most.

The one advantage here as opposed to hitting up the Dunkie’s drive-through is that you can enjoy these with a fresh cup of unburnt coffee.

Many thanks to Nicole at Baking Bites for posting a recipe I couldn’t resist. And I find myself resisting temptations CONSTANTLY, so it’s high praise.