It’s Twinkie time! Special thanks to Bostwick Saltini of Bologna for sending this treat over, Bostwick’s note reads “your website is hilarious, please continue spreading the truth about the history of food. Also please don’t mention my name in your shoutout as association with Shameless Consumer is punishable by prison time in my country after you disparaged us in your Salted Caramel Moonpie review.” Thanks for the support, Bostwick. I don’t know if they have Olive Garden in your country, but I’m sending you a gift card regardless so you can taste some authentic Italian food.
Twinkie is as American as apple pie, moon pie, and cow pies, which means that any deviation from the norm is bound to cause controversy. The last thing you generally want to do with an iconic food is to muck with the ingredients, and new flavors with bad results will have a manufacturer strung up at high noon faster than you can say ‘treason is punishable by death.’
You may know of the Twinkie as that delicious snack cake that went away for a while a couple of years ago and then pretty quickly came right back. It’s a treat that has found its way into children’s lunchboxes for well over a millennia.
The real history is a little different, however the Taste in Reviews board at Shameless Consumer Industries will not allow me to discuss the true history of the Twinkie as it was deemed too pornographic for the general audience. I won’t go into much detail, but I think most adults can figure out the origin behind a “pound cake” stuffed with “banana cream filling,” especially when you look at the close connection between the Twinkie and the tater tot. You getting me? Wink wink, nudge nudge, you might want to look at Weird Al’s Twinkie Weiner Sandwich.
The Shameless Consumer has an affinity for the Twinkie because it reminds the Shameless Consumer of the Shameless Consumer. We’re both rubbery, a bit on the sweaty side, and we’re both chock full of banana flavored filling. One is an American tradition, the other simply an American hero. If the Moon Pie is the Batman of this story, the Twinkie is Robin and candy corn is the Solomon Grundy.
Cotton Candy flavored treats have a habit of carrying an oddly bitter aftertaste. Thankfully replicating cotton candy is easy since you can actually use the cotton candy sugar in the recipe, and thus not have to go through the arguably pointless process of artificially recreating what is already artificial. That’s too far down the rabbit hole, and frankly you’re already too deep when you’re making cotton candy flavored candy.
The Twinkie itself is your standard pound cake shell, it’s a bit greasy and mostly serves as the carrier vessel for the filling inside. The filling is nice and fluffy, almost pillowy, reminiscent of those times when I would come home late at night from the fair and hide some cotton candy under the pillow for some early morning snackage. Don’t knock bed cotton candy until you’ve tried it.
File this one under enjoyed more than I thought I would.
Verdict: 4/5 – A very potent snack that won’t change the opinion of anyone who already hates Twinkies. In fact, it’ll probably reinforce how much you dislike them. Something to buy once and then laugh over its memory.