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.
|HOW BOUT THAT BIGGEST LOSER FINALE?!?! AMIRIGHT!|
Then I made something that looked remarkably like a turd.
|Hey! You! You don't belong there!|
I can't eat you when you're there!
|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.|
THIS JUST HAPPENED.
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.