I lay awake at night worrying about this and did them at 4:00 in the morning. Sometimes, things end in disaster. Other things don’t! HOW WILL THIS STORY END?
I’ll tell you how it began, like a Truman Capote novel. So, I guess insert something about repressed homosexuality either in high society or the deep south. Amanda Chatel was having a black and white themed birthday party. Like Truman’s. It was beautiful. Here were the balloons.
So, in much the manner of Babe Paley, or some modern day Holly Golightly, I decided I would bring a pumpple (it was whiskey buttermilk, double cherry and white icing this time, otherwise, the rules for cake with two pies in it remain the same) and chocolate dipped oreos. The pumpple actually didn’t concern me at all. Because it’s not that hard.
But the Oreos.
To be fair, it was partly Ashley’s fault because she gave me some speech about using bakers chocolate and peeling it off in fine shavings, which all the while made me think, “how would I even do that? With a cheese grater? People have cheese graters?” Meanwhile, I found this recipe online, which looked pretty simple, but it had this review:
“This is the worst recipe that I have EVER tried. Don’t be fooled by how easy it looks because it is not simple. the directions are way too vague!!!!! melting the mixture in the microwave was a total disaster!!!!! luckily I have had enough experience in the kitchen that I knew that I should put it in a saucepan on the stove. I was able to salvage the chocolate by adding more margarine and thinning it out with milk as I melted it over a low heat….DO NOT WASTE YOUR TIME & MONEY! Please try a different recipe….”
I will say that everything in my life up until this point has caused me to be mistrustful of the competence of anyone who uses five exclamation points. Nonetheless, I kept thinking about chocolate being salvaged, like it was some kind of wreckage. In any event, the whole thing caused me to wake up at 4:00, and I lay in bed thinking about what margarine had to do with anything, and how I didn’t buy bakers chocolate, because I don’t really know what that is. I bought some dark chocolate chips and some white chocolate chips. “Fuck it,” I thought, “just do this. Show the world they don’t need a cheese grater. Or margarine.”