Friday, September 14, 2007


This post over at Bou’s place reminded me of something so evil, I had managed to put it completely out of my mind. For two hours, anyway.

I refer to the infamous Oreo Cakester.

Cakesters are the latest in a long line of products that have been spun off from the basic Oreo cookie, that flagship product of the National Biscuit Company. Once upon a time it was simple. You had Oreos. That was it. Just Oreos.

[And their many competitors. Sunshine Biscuit used to make a cookie called Hydrox, of blessèd memory, which many of us Northeasterners thought was even better than Oreo.]

But in the last few years, there has been a veritabobble explosion of products, all variations on the Oreo Theme:
  • Double-Stuf Oreos. Twice the filling. I’m not a fan; I prefer the cookie-to-filling ratio of the original.

  • Various colored fillings. Orange for Hallowe’en, pastel colors for Easter. Meh.

  • Chocolate cream filling. Meh. The contrast between the brown-black cookie and the white filling is, to me, an essential attraction of the Oreo.

  • Mint filling. OK if you have a Mint Jones, I guess. Give me Girl Scout Thin Mints any day.

  • Coffee filling. Sounded good. Disappointing, though.

  • Coated in chocolate. Gilding the lily, this is.

  • Coated in white chocolate. See above.

  • Vanilla cookie, vanilla filling. Not bad. A pleasant change of pace, but most enjoyable when served alongside the Original.

  • Vanilla cookie, chocolate filling. Meh. For some reason, the chocolate filling ain’t thrilling.

  • Oreo ice cream sandwiches. Vanilla ice cream blended with pulverized Oreo cookies, sandwiched between two honkin’ big Oreo cookies. Vade retro, Satanas! The best damned ice cream sandwich since Ben & Jerry’s pulled the plug on theirs.
I’m not even going to mention those 100-calorie packages that purport to contain Oreos: they are a pallid imitation bearing no resemblance to the sacred original.

But the Cakester. Ahh, the Cakester.

We tried these for the first time at the home of our friends JoAnn and Gary this evening. “Friends,” hah. A friend who would give me a Cakester is like someone who would give a wino a bottle of Everclear. Just what I need: a new temptation.

Gawd, those things are good. Like the bastard offspring of an illicit union between a box of Oreos and some good brownies.

I want to eat many of them.

I want to alternate regular Oreos with Cakesters to enjoy the contrast in textures. Soft. Crispy. Soft. Crispy. Aaahhhhh.

I want to pile them into a bowl and bury them with vanilla ice cream.

I want to have Hot, Steamy Monkey Sex with them.

I am a lost soul. Damned by Cookie Desire. There still may be hope for you, though. Do not try the Cakester. You will regret it if you do. Trust me.

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