my husband does not like whoopie pies. i don’t think i do either. at least not the authentic ones.
and there’s the question. are the whoopie pies that are “good” and made by someone “not from around here” actually whoopie pies? is a whoopie pie a whoopie pie because of its outward appearance — i.e., because it has two cakey cookie halves and some cream in the center? does that then mean that oreo cakesters are actually more correctly named oreo whoopie pies (nabisco, ding)? or is a whoopie pie only a whoopie pie if it has certain ingredients (that result in a flavorless cake component and an icky tasting cream filling component)?
i know lancaster county (read: amish country pa) is not the only place that has had whoopie pies on its menu of local offerings for a longlonglonglong time. the first time i went online to order the suckers for my then “intern boyfriend” (i had a few and all were quite platonic, actually) i think they came from some place in maine. and if i were a quality blogger, i would do some research about the origin of the whoopie pie before throwing these questions out to the world wide webiverse. but i’m not.
continuing. i often ask myself this question. is a thing still the real deal even after you’ve changed it to taste good in your mouth? would the sushi i like be considered good and authentic sushi by your average sushi eater on the street in tokyo, japan? i certainly don’t think the the sopapillas served up around northern virginia pass the sniff test. they sprinkle them with cinnamon and sugar for heaven’s sake(s?). hello. not correct.
let us ponder this awhile, shall we? of course, if i were a native of these parts, i might mean something else by “awhile.” but that’s for another day.