The Cool Whip Frosting Incident
A couple of months ago I was waxing nostalgic about some of my favorite forbidden foods. Everyone has them -- items you can't keep in the house because you just eat them, all in one sitting, until the bag/jar/box is empty. About a month after I made that list, I went home to visit my parents in New York, and a new item was added to my list.
Photos by Christina Uticone Plastic tubs of joy.
Cool Whip Frosting.
The weird thing about discovering this evil little tub of sugar, food dye and artificial ingredients is that my parents are ridiculously clean, light eaters. What possessed my father to even buy the stuff is beyond me -- we weren't baking any cakes or anything.
I may have mentioned this before, but bear with me. One of my best girlfriends lives right down the street from my parents -- who still live in the house where I grew up -- and so when I'm home, most nights find me down at Jessica's sharing a bottle of wine after my folks have hit the hay. I generally wander up the street at midnight, drunkenly pondering all the years I drunkenly wandered up that very street, back to my childhood bedroom, and then I go to the kitchen and devour anything I can find in the refrigerator. Now I'm homesick!
Back to the Cool Whip Frosting.
So it's about one in the morning and I'm rooting around my parents' refrigerator. I polish off some leftover spaghetti aglio et olio (garlic and oil) from my favorite restaurant, Antonina's; I move on to some cherry tomatoes and cheddar cheese; finally, I crush one of the leftover meatballs from my dad's Antonina's dinner. At this point I'm beyond satiated, and turn to the task of filling up my water bottle before heading upstairs to bed. Opening the freezer to grab some ice cubs, I see this tub of Cool Whip, only it's teeny-tiny and has the word "frosting" on it. Curious -- from a professional, food blogger standpoint! Not a drunk one in the morning standpoint! -- I pull the tub out of the freezer, stick in a spoon and have a taste.
And then another, and another. And several 'nothers, until a dangerous dent appears and my stomach starts to hurt. You guys, Cool Whip Frosting is delicious in the worst, most processed, most wonderful way possible. The texture is smooth and creamy -- a light, whipped version of regular frosting -- and eaten straight from the freezer, it's got an almost pudding-like quality to it; you could even use the word "silky" to describe it. The chocolate flavor is actually quite true -- the vanilla is just okay -- and frankly, who the hell needs cake to eat this thing? Not this chick. Although it probably would be pretty boss on a cupcake.
Fortunately for me, this product is tough to come by here in Houston. I went to two Krogers and two H-E-Bs before finding them (in the freezer aisle). For the purposes of this article, of course, and no, I didn't eat half the tub of chocolate while I wrote this! Don't be silly.