It's a good thing that I take photographs of the things that I cook and eat. Most of the time I forget to look back at them, remembering only when (ahem) I have failed to blog for two straight months. But on those not-so-rare occasions, it's great to have a little trail of bread crumbs to help me recall what I've been doing in the kitchen.My wife sent me all of the vintage food pictures off our camera, commenting that there was "nothing great" but that maybe I'd be able to work some magic with the images. Clearly she has become jaded, because just look at those miniature whoopie pies that she made for our housewarming party! Those are something great, that's for sure. Since Sarah was raised in the great state of Maine, birthplace of the whoopie pie (and don't let anyone tell you different), I deferred to her when it came to making these. Ordinarily the filling is marshmallow, or some Crisco-stiffened frosting-like business. We thought we could do one better using good, all-natural sweet butter and clouds of confectionary sugar. Without delving into the specifics, suffice to say that it didn't really work—turns out vegetable shortening does have its place. I'm sure some of you are now horrified and distrusting, and let me assure you that I am not the type to use shortening in place of any natural fats. But in this case ...
You certainly could make these full-size, but the petite version is great for a party, a potluck, anytime there will be a lot of food around. The cake is moist in the way that the sandwich part of an ice cream sandwich is moist, sticking to one's fingers. Using good cocoa is a nice idea here, and be sure to err on the side of underbaking, lest you end up with dusty pucks. And the Crisco? Yes, trust me about the Crisco. Now that I have you excited, I must report that Sarah has been a little slow to type up her secret recipe, which was an amalgam of a few different recipes, including one from the Dysart's cookbook, published by a truck stop restaurant in Bangor. (For real. You should buy it.) But once I have Sarah's secret, time-honored recipe, I will amend this post.
