My immediate reaction was OH NO NO. Followed very quickly with a lament on the need to muck up cakes with pies. Frozen pies, no less.
In some ways, this Frankenstein of a dessert exemplifies everything that is wrong with America. Cake? Pie? Why pick—have both, have them all, and damn the consequences. No sacrifice, no hard choices, just gut-busting, coma-inducing pie-stuffed cakes.
Then again, I was the one who, earlier this week, looking for a new way to use my kitchen torch, contemplated making a donut hole croquembouche. Didn’t make it, but thought about it.
Let me be clear that I am not judging Kuff for giving the pumpecapple a hearty OM NOM NOM. The heart wants what the heart wants.
I so appreciate all Kuff does for our community that I’m thinking I need to find out when his birthday is and set that shit up, because I’m guessing that with my kitchen torch and a little elbow grease, I could kick it up to an even crazier level of OH NO NO/OM NOM NOM. Maybe encase the whole shebang in a layer of meringue and light it on fire?