Let me just say that I could have just made the cupcakes.
But I saw this recipe in Family Circle for an old-fashioned treat, Whoopie Pies, and since I was due to make treats for my son’s classroom birthday celebration and was feeling adventurous, I thought why not?
A Whoopie Pie is really nothing more than an inside-out cupcake, of sorts. Frosting in the middle saves me from having to pull out a MacGyver trick to transport them safely and carefully from kitchen to school. I am not the owner of that handy-dandy cupcake transporter, you know that cute little Tupperware tray thingy with a place for each cupcake. So, without the need to stress about getting them to school, I thought Hey, these will be cake! (Sorry for the pun. It was too good to pass up.)
Let me say here that there is a reason they give you recipe instructions. If you don’t follow them, they just may not turn out as pretty as they are in the picture.
So when they say use three baking sheets for 36 rounds of batter, well, you probably should. But since I don’t have three baking sheets, I used two.
And the two inches that you are supposed leave between each rounded tablespoon of batter, well there is also a reason for that too. It’s not one inch. It’s not even 1 3/4 inches. It’s two and since I apparently am not all that adept at “eyeballing it”, my two cookie sheets filled with little balls of batter became one giant chocolate mess.
They didn’t look like circles either.
Since it was now 7:30 at night and nearing the time where I should be putting at least my five-year old to bed, a mom with better judgment might have stopped right there and hit the grocery store in the morning. Nope. Not me.
My daughter was off playing somewhere and since she wasn’t screaming, I thought OK. I really wanted to see if I could salvage a single Whoopie Pie. So I cooled them, then used my spatula to cut them into something that looked sort of like a rounded squarish abstract thing. Not too bad. Some were huge and others, well, not so big.
So this time, I spooned the rounded tablespoons of batter WAY farther than two inches apart on the cookie sheet. Then I made the frosting — which by the way if you have one around, a box of Trader Joe’s White Frosting is pretty darn good. Way better than the container of pre-made crap.
So after I’d baked the last tray and decided it would be a good idea to count them, I realized I didn’t have enough to make the necessary 18 sandwiched pies. I was literally four cookies short. (Again, back to the eyeballing thing I am not good at.)
After all this effort, I’d be damned if I wasn’t going to at least try to make it work. They would definitely not be uniform, or round for that matter, but my son would have homemade Whoopie Pies dammit!
So I assembled one and it broke sort of on accident. (OK fine, I did it on purpose. I needed to try it.) It was one of the really misshapen ones anyway. And it was really, really good. My daughter at this point smelled chocolate and emerged from what she was doing to try one. (She was doing my makeup bag. She was covered in eyeliner pencil, eyeshadow and body glitter dust and more lipstick than Bobbi Brown could have produced in a year. My fault. I was ignoring.)
She proclaimed they were the best thing ever.
So, there you have it. One mom’s attempt at Whoopies. I improvised and when I sent my son to school today with them, said a little prayer that not everyone in his class would show up or even want one. Some are cut in half. Some are not. Some are big and some are small.
Hopefully if the kids in my son’s class tell their parents about the crazy cupcakes they had in class today, they leave out the part about how ugly they were.
Hey, I tried, right?