Thursday, December 15, 2011

Banana Chocolate Cream Whoopie Pies

I thought I'd open this post with something I like to call: Show the Terrifying End Result of the Story in Order to Lure in the Audience. I'm a big time Hollywood producer now. NBD.

See what you've got here is fucking horrifying. It's carnage. It's utter destruction. But I don't know if you see what I did there...See I showed you a little banana cream pie beacon of hope too. I was worried you didn't see that. What I did there. Just...stay with me. I swear it's worth it. And if it isn't, you got a tour of my kitchen for your trouble. IT'S SO ROOMY.

I'm the first one in the world to say this so take a seat. I have really fantastic ideas in the shower. Sure, they're typically overshadowed by the OMIGODMYHEADISBLEEDING moment when I forget that's just red hair dye going down the drain, not my brains. (It might be my brains though too?) But if an idea can get past that hurdle, it's a keeper.

And so, I offer you The Banana Chocolate Cream Whoopie Pie. Courtesy my thought process when I'm nakey. 


I've been trying for 3-5 minutes to figure out how to properly describe these little goodies. Nothing's quite right but I think I'm close.


I mean, wow. Wow wow wow. But more of that later.

First things first, I prepared my browser for the evening. I set my bookmarks to Full Throttle. I'm in it to win or something.


Then I made something that looked remarkably like a turd.

You should be on your way out, not in.
Part of my stroke of genius was to make a double chocolate chip banana cookie for the whoopie pie. This was a mistake. Don't do this. They don't whoopie pie very well. Stick with your everyday banana chocolate chip cookie.

Hey! You! You don't belong there!
I can't eat you when you're there!
While the much more delicious banana chocolate chip cookies were baking, I got started on the custard. This is crucial to my whoopie pie cause. Because a banana chocolate cream pie without custard is like that horrible bitch in high school without her good looks: some bananas in some crusty shit that will probably wind up pregnant with a bastard child 1-3 months after graduation.

Much like the man in the moon,
there is usually a dinosaur in the custard.

Then came assembly time.

What you've got here is your typical Molly Banana Chocolate Cream Whoopie Pie set up. See, you've got one side being all vanilla custard-ed up with the world's thinnest slice of banana nestled inside like a little tiny banana present. Then you've have the other side, see, slathered in chocolate cream. What happens next will simply blow your mind.

Oh I'm sorry. I should have said something.
And so we've made our way back to the beginning. The filthy, filthy beginning. I HOPE YOU SEE WHAT I CLEARLY DID THERE.

Fun side note: I weighed myself consistently during this endeavor because I live alone and my scale is 12 footsteps from my oven so I'm allowed to do these things. I gained a pound and half from beginning to end. Sure, I also drank 20oz of Diet Dr. Pepper but that's the amount of Diet Dr. Pepper that could be inside my body at any given moment. My scale has adjusted.

You makea my dreams come true.
Ooo wooo. Oo oo.


TASTE: 5/5 I can't reiterate this nearly enough. Holy fuck. I ate the shit out of one of these whoopie pies. And I don't even like whoopie pies. Hell, I don't even like eating all that much. I would have eaten all of them, but I think I'm having a heart attack?

EASE: 3/5 These weren't hard to make, just kitchen consuming. What with the mixing and the custarding and the assembling and sometimes I wish I had an underpaid, under appreciated, overworked helper monkey to do my biddings. All I have is a stupid dog. I'm going to go kick around some dirt while staring at my shoes now. 

FILTH OF KITCHEN: 10/5 May I direct your attention to the aforementioned video documentation of said filth? I might as well set fire to my apartment. I will never be clean.

DID THE DOG EAT THE DOUGH: I don't understand what is up with my dog. Half the time I was making these, he was "stuck" in the closet whimpering slightly. It sounds cruel of me to not help him and to put quotation marks around his apparent situation but he wasn't stuck. The door of the closet was open. That's how he got in in the first place. He just couldn't figure out how to get out. I don't know what else to say. The other half of the time, I was pretending he was invisible. 

IMPRESS-O-METER: 5/5 I mean, I had this idea in the shower, you know? Who thinks about baked goods in the shower? Who thinks about anything other than "can I get by without shaving my legs today" in the shower? Who has the time! I do. Plus, I put a real pie into a fake cookie pie. I win.

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Vegan Blueberry Muffins

Hey guyz! It’s me! Molly! And I made some muffins, yo. I’ve also started ending my sentences with yo, yo. Things have really changed since I last posted. (Yo.)

I'm so excited to not see you in person!

In my hiatus from baking and blogging, I’ve been fixated on a dazzling array of things. What’s that? You said you want to read about these things in list form? 

  • Those new Ford commercials? With the press conferences? With the new Ford owners? They claim to be real? The fuck? The fuck. IAMNOTSTUPIDFORD. America is not stupid, Ford. Why do you treat us like we are so stupid? Is it because we look stupid? You are such an asshole. Now let me buy a Ford or twelve.
  • I’ve haven't baked anything since moving to my new apartment. This is especially silly because my oven is really shiny and, like 12 brand new Fords, shiny = high quality. Also, my apartment is tiny (456 sq ft tiny) and the smell of fresh baked goods would certainly fill the space much lovelier than the smell from my garbage disposal.
  • Blueberries taste yum.

Blueberries are so expensive that they should print cash on blueberries
so cash would have more value and save our economy.
Yall can stop occupying Wall Street now. I fixed it. 

So this evening I did something about these things. I made some Vegan Blueberry Muffins. Why vegan blueberry muffins? For the same reason I've made other vegan things... Because lay off my case. That's why. Also milk makes me feel yucky. Please don't tell anyone. I have to maintain my strong facade. I wish I'd never italicized the word "vegan" earlier in this paragraph. 

Can we talk about this recipes "wet mixture" instead?

I almost wish this was animal insides.
So it'd be less disgusting looking.

It's like anything but an animal bled into that bowl. Amiright?

Here. Have some streusel.

Streusel doesn't make anyone feel yucky!
No one!

Have you met my friend Streusel? It's like that natural exfoliating face wash you keep in the shower that, whilst washing off your freshly exfoliated face, tempts you to "forget" to close your mouth and taste a lot little of? Yeah. Just like that but double the brown sugar and imitation butter.

Do you want a nest of sugar and oats topping your muffin
or should I get used to telling you what's good for you?

So longest-story-in-the-world-ever short, these muffins are delightful. Like your sister but not the one that sucks, the one you like. Will you be my sister?

I can't wait to destroy you.
De. Stroy.

If you'd like to find the recipe (A SISTER WOULD DO IT), it was unceremoniously stolen from Delicious Sweets. And made slightly sugary-er. JK. I threw a lot more sugar into it.


TASTE: 3.75/5 Bitches be yummy, yo. (THINGS ARE SO DIFFERENT NOW.)

EASE: 5/5 The hardest part of this recipe was taking a large bowl out of the dishwasher when it was still relatively hot from the drying cycle. So basically, it was the toughest.

FILTH OF THE KITCHEN: -5/5 Ok, get a load of this shit. I actually cleaned my kitchen so I’d have room to make these muffins. Stop raising your eyebrows in disbelief. You’ll get wrinkles and you’ll be ugly and no one will love you.

DID THE DOG EAT THE DOUGH: You know, ordinarily I’m sure he would have but currently he's focusing all his energy towards being afraid of his dinner bowl. I - I don’t understand. It’s like he told me he smells toast and had a stroke.

IMPRESS-O-METER: 5/5 Every time I take a bite of these muffins, a songbird flies through my balcony door and thanks me personally for not harming any of his animal brethren in the making of these baked goods. To be honest, I’m afraid of birds and I want them out of my apartment. But they refuse to stop tipping their tiny bird hats at me and I don’t have a broom to chase them out. Apparently, this is my life now.

Also, I cannot WAIT for my surprise press conference. I am going to make ALL the jokes.