I know - devil's food usually contains chocolate. Nevertheless, I sure felt I'd strayed to the culinary dark side when I gingerly lifted these babies from the grocery store shelf.
When I was little, a friend offered me a Twinkie and I thought it tasted like heaven. Years later, I indulged in another one to relive that childhood memory, and was so revolted by the synthetic nastiness that I could barely finish the thing. So why, after that terrible experience, did I voluntarily spend good money for something I consider a gastronomic crime against humanity? Because my husband and I were invited to a Gourmet Twinkie Party.
Yeah, you read that right. The hostess (no pun intended) sent us a link to the official
Twinkie recipe page, which can instruct you in the creation of Layered Twinkie Delight, Patriotic Twinkie Pie, and the exotic Twinkie Fantasy. It was one of those ideas that was just bizarre enough to sound fun - kind of like strapping on a parachute and jumping out of a perfectly good airplane.
I chose to try the Mini No-Bake Twinkie Cheesecakes, mainly because they seemed like the least frightening option. Basically, you put slices of Twinkie in a mini-muffin pan, dollop on a cream cheese mixture, then add a bit of cherry pie filling.
The above photo was taken after the party. As you can see, several brave souls actually sampled these little dainties. To our surprise, we found that these and a few of the other recipes like the Twinkie Toffee Treat weren't too bad. Ironically, the dishes that we enjoyed most were the ones in which it was hardest to recognize Twinkies as a main ingredient (e.g. with the cheesecakes, the cream cheese mixture masked the identity of the "crust" lurking beneath).
A word to the wise: If you're feeling adventurous and decide to try this cheesecakwinkie recipe for yourself, be advised that it's best to eat them within a few hours of assembly. By the next day, the Twinkie crusts will have become rather tough and spongy. Yum.
P.S. The cream cheese mixture (8oz cream cheese, 1 cup sour cream, and 1/2 c sugar) was actually rather good. If you're craving cream cheese but not in the mood to make a full-blown cheesecake, you might try putting that into a graham cracker crust or little pre-made tart crusts, like these ones that I bought on impulse weeks ago with no idea what to put in them. Fortunately I had more cream cheese mixture than I did Twinkies, so the tarts were able to fulfill the measure of their creation. I love happy endings.
Joy is watching carefully to make sure Daddy fastens her belt correctly his first time.
Joy has taken an increasing interest in local wildlife lately.
Sometimes the wildlife isn't too pleased about that, but hey, what do you expect from a bird who is scared of lettuce?
Yes, she's pulling herself to a standing position, but far more significantly, she wore overalls for the first time today. That's right up there with rolling over or eating your first bug.
Three fun guys having a jam session outside the library . . .
When I was little, a friend offered me a Twinkie and I thought it tasted like heaven. Years later, I indulged in another one to relive that childhood memory, and was so revolted by the synthetic nastiness that I could barely finish the thing. So why, after that terrible experience, did I voluntarily spend good money for something I consider a gastronomic crime against humanity? Because my husband and I were invited to a Gourmet Twinkie Party.
The above photo was taken after the party. As you can see, several brave souls actually sampled these little dainties. To our surprise, we found that these and a few of the other recipes like the Twinkie Toffee Treat weren't too bad. Ironically, the dishes that we enjoyed most were the ones in which it was hardest to recognize Twinkies as a main ingredient (e.g. with the cheesecakes, the cream cheese mixture masked the identity of the "crust" lurking beneath).
These babies are basically little, freeform loaves of pumpkin bread, studded with butterscotch chips. Autumnal ambrosia, I tell you.
Joy wanted to take part in the seasonal festivities . . .
Considering that our two pepper plants only produced a single quarter-sized fruit in their first two months on our porch, I'm impressed by their recent yield. These three bells went into a pot of chicken chili. Mmmm.
It's a picture of Success. Victory. Triumph. Somebody's going to put this photo on a workplace poster with the word "PERSEVERANCE."
