Thursday, July 31, 2008

Susie Cakes: Let's Hear a "Whoop Whoop" for the Whoopie Pie! (And a shameless plug for its devourer)

I think that Shakespeare guy was on to something when he wrote in Romeo & Juliet, "What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet."

How do I know this? I've eaten Susie Cakes' Whoopie Pie, a decadent treat so gloriously worthy of a place in my mouth that even if it was called a "Dog Poop Sandwich" I would still find myself craving one on a weekly basis.

Sophomoric bathroom humor aside, consuming the Whoopie Pie is a seriously prudent way to plump up those dimpling fat cells. The aptly named dessert is composed of two moist, brownie-like chocolate chocolate chip cookies that caress an abundant layer of lucious vanilla buttercream filling. The description alone is enough to erode tooth enamel and elicit bouts of diabetic shock, and when I suggested that my mom and I share one during our afternoon cookie and tea date last weekend, her eyes bulged out in terror. She didn't think she could do it. But once I staked my claim to the bigger half, she was game.

Armed with our half-sandwiches (graciously divided for us by the lovely counter gals at the Susie Cakes Newport Beach location), we headed next door to Kean Coffee for beverages -- black coffee for her, an iced pear ginger tea for me. We selected a cozy round table tucked in the corner of the bustling coffee shop and wished each other luck as we each took a tentative first bite of the monstrous cookie. Conversation immediately halted as we alternated bites with moans. Bite. Moan. Bite. Moan. Bite. "It's so good!" Bite. "Uh huh." Moan.

By the time we finished polishing off our half Whoopie Pies, I think my mom wished she'd put up a fight for the bigger half. Despite the rich appearance of what some might liken to an Oreo on steroids, the cookie is surprisingly easy to swallow. I didn't have a hint of the sweetness shock that often comes from consuming overly frosted cupcakes, and an hour later, my stomach didn't hate me. (It was too busy plotting when it could get a second round of Whoopie.)

My green (sometimes hazel) eyes are now officially star-crossed with love for my new afternoon sweetie. I'd love him even if his name was Rumpelstiskin. Perhaps, I'd even spin him a sweater. But for now, he'll just have to settle for a notable mention in this piece I wrote for the Daily Pilot Town Hall site...


Hari said...

"The description alone is enough to erode tooth enamel and elicit bouts of diabetic shock.."

There goes my chance of ever eating this goodie. No more enamel left to erode!!Its all gone :)

PS: Given that you write so well, you should try to write professionally and make some $$$. It will surely mean more such cookie sandwiches!!

Diana H. said...

Aw Hari, I think your teeth can take it! Just eat half and give the other half to one of the girls in your office who always steals your Samoas.

Thanks for the kind words -- I am working on the writing professionally part. Wish it were easier! Mama needs a new skirt from Anthropologie! (and gas money...)

Hari said...

I don't know if I can handle even half of the cookie. And the Samoas were taken by the guys at work. The girls in my office are too worried about the sugar and their figure!!

Good luck on your writing part. I wish you have all the success, Anthropologie skirts, gas money and oh..the cookie sandwich :)

Ashley said...

What if it was called a "feces bravado sandwich"?

mybolgsallgood said...

I really want one of them. Love your recipes. I made a cake other day.

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