It’s long been claimed as the official dessert of Boston, but it was created by a French chef — so even if you’ve never actually eaten one, you know the Boston cream pie has more to do with an appreciation for the sinfully decadent than, say, providing a sensible after-dinner complement for corned beef. It’s a circular monument to gluttony, a layered celebration of all things lacking in serious nutritional value. It’s irresponsibility on a plate, and it’s all kinds of awesome.
If you’ve ever tried to make a Boston cream pie, you know they’re also a pain in the ass to put together. I looked up a random recipe at AllRecipes, and counted over 20 ingredients and seven steps; unless you’ve got an afternoon to kill, or are specifically seeking out a dessert so labor-intensive that you earn it by making it, you’re liable to seek out something simpler.
For instance, a Boston cream pie you make in your toaster.
Ah, yes, the Toaster Strudel. For kids of my generation, who thought Cookie Crisp was the apex of the dessert-as-breakfast food subgenre, Toaster Strudels represented a new frontier. Of course, Toaster Strudels aren’t really strudels at all — they’re more like flakier, even less nutritious Pop-Tarts — but only the most annoying 10-year-old on the planet cares about stuff like that. The bottom line is that Toaster Strudels are stupidly delicious, even if you don’t squirt the pack of crack-laced icing that Pillsbury thoughtfully includes for each Strudel. (more…)
Dear Everyone Who Ever Said I’d Never Amount to Anything:
The big U.S. auto manufacturers, finding their sales affiliates smarting over the loss of business for the once-profitable mammoth, 4X4 luxury monsters in deference to smaller, fuel-friendly models and higher prices at the pumps, started testing the waters to see what would happen if… they sold those divisions? Maybe they might just close the Hummer and Escalade plants down, seeing as how the time for them had come and gone. A part of me, the part that never could afford one of these stupid counties on wheels and was gleeful in spite, cheered the announcement. Sure, it wasn’t a concrete plan of action — merely a “f’rinstance” — but the merest mention of the possibility was enough. At least, it momentarily was.
Earlier this month New York attorney general Andrew Cuomo reported that he had sent his staff to 1,000 pharmacies across the state in March, April, and May and found more than 250 that were selling expired milk, eggs, baby formula, and over-the-counter medication. The two biggest culprits were the CVS and Rite Aid chains. So what else have these drugstores not been telling consumers?
I remember it pretty clearly. I came home to find the red light on the answering machine ominously blinking away, and checked to see how many messages there were for me (eight, as I recall). They were from a family member, and the gist of the first message was that this person needed to talk to me right now. The second message was a repeat of the first, mostly. The third through eighth were hit-and-runs of “where are you?” I called them back to stop the insanity and was immediately pounced upon with the statement, “You’re getting a cell phone this weekend. You are totally getting a cell phone this weekend. I’m fed up of waiting for you to return to planet Earth from your joyriding.”
