It was the morning after the first leg of my recent cross-country road trip and I woke up to aroma of cinnamon and butter wafting through the air. When a gentlelady offers you her buns, no matter how sticky, it's only polite to offer her something in return, so I turned to my in-a-strange-kitchen-with-no-knowledge-of-what-they've-got staple breakfast: vegetable hash. In this case, we happened to have some gorgeous sweet potatoes and purple bell peppers, two of my favorite hash ingredients.
'bravetart' on Serious Eats
If you've ever wanted to eat a Koosh Ball then you understand the appeal of Hostess Sno Balls. Who doesn't want a fluffy, jiggly, bouncy neon snack? Uh. Well. Maybe you don't. In which case, who wants chocolate cake?
Just like the original, individual chocolate cakes are enrobed in marshmallow and coconut.
Writing about Magic Middles, making a recipe for them, makes me feel like that person at the Police Department that sketches a criminal's portrait while listening to the victim's account. You see, I have never tasted a Magic Middle or seen one in the wild. But based on eye witness reports and video footage, I've taken on the role of a forensic chef in the hunt for America's Most Wanted Cookie.
A homemade version of a discontinued Keebler favorite: Magic Middles are a chewy cookie with a melt-in-your-mouth chocolate middle.
Oatmeal Creme Pies have mastered consistency in every sense of the word. It starts with the unparalleled consistency of both the cookies and the so-called creme. Together they are yielding yet substantial and neither squishy nor firm. Their flavor and texture remain consistent from edge to edge, from box to box, from decade to decade.
[Photographs: Sarah Jane Sanders] Note: These cookies require very little bake time. In my oven, 8 minutes is enough to cook them through and results in soft and pliable cookies, just like the real deal. 10 minutes, however, results in...
Scarfing down a sugary snack without preamble definitely gets the job done, but a little delayed gratification really amps up the satisfaction of certain sweets. These sweets seem to demand a little ritual and thought: Twisting and licking an Oreo, wearing a Fudge Stripe like an edible ring, punching out the middle of a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup, or folding and nibbling a Fruit Roll-Up into a fruity snowflake.
These fruit roll-ups might not be healthy, but they taste exactly like the ones you remember.
I'd like to think of myself as a qualified hangover expert. I grew up in Kentucky, a stone's throw from the Woodford Reserve distillery. I minored in OMG Too Much Booze at culinary school (emphasis on minored; I graduated at 20) and have worked my entire adult life in the hard-drinking realm of restaurant kitchens.
I don't know that there remains any praise for Biscoff that Francis Lam has not already articulated. Rather than try to out-prose the man who wrote of cookies that "taste beautifully and comfortingly of warm spices, caramel and wheat", I've decided to tackle Biscoff from a different angle; as a chef, not a writer.
You can make your favorite airline cookies at home!
Writing a nostalgia-fueled column about childhood junk foods has some occupational hazards. Trips to the grocery now involve huge chunks of time spent roaming the center aisles ("Chips Ahoy or Famous Amos? Oh, hello Pecan Sandies..."), my notebook at work has more pages devoted to Little Debbie than Petite Syrah, and my coworkers get irate when subjected to taste-testing the same thing twelve too many times ("Soft Batch, again?").
Last year, Robyn taught us about a magical place called the Netherlands where people enjoy life so much that they crown even the most mundane food, buttered bread, with hagelslag (chocolate sprinkles). I don't know how this practice began, but I'd like to think that the people of the Netherlands have a sweeter constitution and dessert in the evening alone can't sustain them. To survive the long, dangerous hours between breakfast and dessert, they take chocolate vitamins to tide them over.
People who rag on Conversation Hearts as tasteless, chalky pills totally miss the point. You don't eat Conversations Hearts, you experience them. I can remember everything about them without having had a box in years.
Sprite gives the candies a faint acidity that helps them taste like the real thing, and to that same end I've made suggestions for how to flavor each color to match the classic flavor line up. But don't hesitate to experiment! No doubt you'll think of all sorts of fun, alternative flavor pairings limited only by the extracts or freeze dried fruits you can get your hands on.
Imagine, if you will, a cage match between Butterfinger, 5th Avenue, and Clark Bar. Who would emerge victorious to claim the crispiest, crunchiest, peanut butteriest crown? Moreover, how might we then usurp the throne for ourselves? Let us first define the rules of engagement.
Making Butterfingers for yourself takes a fair amount of time, but the work itself isn't actually hard if you're patient.
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These cookie dough cups are for everyone!