Friday, October 1, 2010

Care Packages | Ho-Ho's and Pies

Suppliiiiiiiiiiies!


Let's be real for a second, guys. Can we be real? Are we in the RealZone now? You're not familiar with the RealZone? It's like an arena of truth. That's centrally located on my couch. Welcome, guys. Welcome to my RealZone (couch).

Oh, nice to see you guys here. Took you forever. Anyways, here's the thing. I had this harebrained idea the other day about my future. This isn't out of the ordinary. I have silly ideas all the time. But this one almost seems doable. I want to, one day, open my own itty bitty bakery. I have some little twists that make my bakery idea adorable and awesome but I'm going to keep those a secret because even though we're in the RealZone, I don't trust a single one of you fuckers. Anyways, this exercise in care-packaging was just so I could try out some fun recipes I half-made up and see how shipping chocolate things works out.

(Hey at least my harebrained idea isn't as absurd as thefreedictionary.com's thesaurus entry for a harebrained idea: "a completely mad scheme to build a bridge between two mountains." That's fucking mad crazy.)

Now get out of my RealZone and let's talk about baking.

RED VELVET CAKE HO-HO's with CREAM CHEESE FROSTING

GUYS. I'm pretty sure I suffered from some minor diabetic shock last night. I was just wrapping up the final batch of Ho-Ho's and getting along to writing some notes. I was staring at my computer when the room started spinning. I don't know about you guys, but that only happens to me on Tuesdays and some Saturdays. (Tuesday is the new Saturday is the new every day of the week when you're unemployed, guys.) I think that's what happens when you surround yourself with red velvet cake, cream cheese frosting, and melted chocolate glaze for two days straight. That and you look fat. (Unrelated: I need to go to the gym.)

Mmmm. Tastes like thunder thighs and dizziness!
Just like Ma Hostess used to make!

But let's take a step back. Back to where this all started.

I've made normal Ho-Ho's before but the frosting in the recipe I used was horribly sweet. Sorta gross. So I thought, hey, these would be way cuter if they were red on the inside and I'd spread cream cheese frosting all over my face if it was socially acceptable (one day!). Why not make some red velvet cake Ho-Ho's? With cream cheese frosting? WHY NOT, I said.

So I did.

I'd be lying if I said it isn't the blood of a
virginal ox that makes Red Velvet Cake taste so good.


Making Ho-Ho's is all about technique. You have to make sure the cakes aren't at all over baked which is tough because you're baking them on a cookie sheet. Bitches gonna be thin.

Red like your pent up rage. Velvety like those fabulous curtains in the den.

Then, as I learned after much trial and error, you have to cut that cake in half...so it's thinner. This, by the way, is not very easy to do. Especially if the cake is at all over-baked. (Basically, if the cake is over-baked you've let down everyone you know. This goes back generations.)

Unfortunately, I took these pictures before figuring out a better technique but you get the gist anyways. You either ice that sucker as one big sheet and cut it up or cut it up and ice it. The latter makes a thousand times more sense when you get into the thick of things.

This is lose-your-left-hand diabetes material.
(Worth it.)

The rolling is a crapshoot. Sometimes it's perfect. Sometimes it looks like I'm making a hilarious joke where perfect Ho-Ho's are the butt and I pretend to be better than them even though all I want in the world is to sit at their table at lunch. Sigh.

Winner!


Finally, you dunk your little rolled cakes into melty chocolate. Using your hands. Using both your hands. Let's skip to the point: I had chocolate all over me. You know how you think melted chocolate all over someone is like, oh I don't know, sexy? Well, it isn't. It's fucking disgusting. You can't do anything. Nothing. You can't touch the sink to wash your hands. You can't even use your elbow to turn on the sink because even your elbow is covered in chocolate. WHY IS YOUR ELBOW COVERED IN CHOCOLATE? In summary: you will never be clean again.

But, if you play your cards right, you do end up with something as beautiful as this...

The Hostess people have started throwing bricks through my windows.
Bricks attached to more bricks.

This is getting so long! Sorry! That's what happens when you start out in the RealZone!

I made various mini pies too that I won't go into detail about. (It's called making a mini pie with lattice crust. Your grandma could do it if your grandma had tiny nimble fingers like mine and if your grandma didn't talk so much smack about you like EVERYDAY, yo.)

I made apple pies, peach pies, and mango/kiwi pies. Oh the pies I made!
Your girlfriend called. She said she's never going to be like me and you
should stop drawing big hearts in your notebook around 'Mr. Molly Wilkof' already.


Remember those neato oversized cross-section books that always had the hidden guy taking a dump somewhere in the scene? Here's a similar cross-section of the beauty that'll be arriving at people's doorsteps between noon and 3pm tomorrow...There's no dude taking a dump in there so you can stop looking for him. Also, what the fuck was up with that anyways?

Mini pies are capital 'B' Booming, guys.


RATE ME!



TASTE:
5/5 > Incredible. Nothing has ever tasted better in the history of things being tasted.
EASE: 1/5 > Instead of sewing wallets, sweatshops should make kids roll up Ho-Ho's so they could really appreciate the meaning of hard work.
FILTH OF KITCHEN: 5/5 > The melted chocolate debacle of 2010 will go down in history as super gross. As will all the other crap still strewn about the kitchen. I think my dog may have icing on him. Not sure.
DID THE DOG EAT IT THE DOUGH: When he wasn't giving me the cold shoulder last night, Frank was most certainly eating the dough. Which was great because it got everywhere and looked a little like blood and so it's a good thing he helped clean up the murder scene kitchen.
IMPRESS-O-METER: 10/5 > I would now like to quote a Twitter Direct Message from the one and only Josh Kenner: "i didn't know that hohos are a thing that people can actually make at home. this will be an adventure." You're damn right, Josh. You're damn right.

Last little note: I'm totally stoked about the 100% likelihood of
the Ho-Ho's melting in transport. Things might get sloppy. We'll see. They're going to Maryland, Virginia, Oregon, and Colorado. Extra big pie packages are going to Georgia and South Carolina because they don't allow Ho-Ho's there. For real.

2 comments:

  1. love love love love love.
    and some more love.

    xoxo, hoho queen

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ericka "THE ROCK" CaslinOctober 1, 2010 at 4:50 PM

    I think you have a bakery on wheels. Like the DC Food Trucks, but your own personal bakery. Where you go to busy parts of the city and force your crack...I mean...ho ho's onto the population. You'd be a millionare. First you need to buy a child molestor-type ice cream truck and molly-fy it.

    ReplyDelete