This Reminds Me

When Hurricane Alicia was bearing down in 1983, we Houstonians knew to stock up on the essentials.  Batteries.  Water.  And for me - a box of Twinkies.  I stashed the box in my bedroom closet (no exterior walls or windows), ready to jump in, slam the door and enjoy my last living moments seeking solace in that oh-so-creamy filling.  To ensure my diet was balanced (soft vs. hard), I also had a box of Cap’n Crunch at the ready.

I know as adults, we are supposed to loathe Twinkies.   Glare at them placed near the check-out with a curled lip of total disdain.  If they’re served near us, we’re supposed to drone on about “sodium stearol lactylate” and “calcium sulpphate.”  We never buy them, of course, because they’re bad for us.  And for our children.  And some Twinkies are still “fresh” after decades on lab shelves.

But I love them.  Still.

My friend Karen – who shares this secret sin with me – gifted our family a Hostess bake set, complete with Twinkie-shaped mold.   Hannah and I decided today was the day to exercise our extraordinary culinary skills.

The golden sponge cake recipe was supposed to “Yield: 24 mini-cakes.”  We got eight out of it – the number of cake molds in the pan.  We could have scraped out nine if we hadn’t “sampled” quite so much.  Two of the cakes had severe emotional problems and simply…ummm….went to pieces.  There are also recipes in the booklet for Devil’s Food Cake and Strawberry Spice Cake, which would, of course, be blasphemies.

Note the Vanilla Fluff splattered on Hannah’s wrist and arm.  “Mom, I’m having fluff blow-out.”  Butter, powdered sugar, heavy cream and marshmallow fluff – what’s not to like?!  There’s another recipe for Peanut Butter Filling that I could spread directly on my hips.

The end result:  Three regular filled Twinkies, and three Twinkies both filled and topped.  See mine – “MOM”?  Of course, Rachel came home from a youth event and promptly ate that one.  There’s a little dipping fluff on the side for some extra whitey goodness.

I know carnival vendors are frying Twinkies now.  That’s just wrong.  And forget recipes like the disturbing Hostess Twinkies Sushi. That’s enough to give nightmares.  And personal “fluff blow-out,” too, I suspect.

No, I’ll stick with a tiny bite out of the end of that heavenly golden sponge cake.   Pursed lips seeking that creamy goodness before taking the first melt-in-your-mouth chomp.  Rapid chewing, followed by fingers run down sides of clothes.  And then that slightly greasy film on your teeth that can be enjoyed until your next brushing.

Okay, so this is a sin best kept in the closet, with or without a hurricane approaching.

But you gotta admit – It’s all good.

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