Food Snobism and a Twinkie

Yesterday there was a class held at school focusing on the basics of proper knife skills in the kitchen. It was sad and amusing at the same time. Because I went through it before, I knew what to expect as the instructor began and since these people weren’t looking forward to a futuristic career of cooking, they approached the counter dauntingly. I couldn’t hear or see much from my position as I was watching the barren front of the store during the class. I didn’t want to leave because I didn’t know if the others knew how to close the store but I was getting a little nervous due to the darkness growing outside. I used to not be afraid driving in the dark, but, that was in Philadelphia where the skies were constantly illuminated by streetlights and buildings while in some parts of Virginia, here especially, it becomes pitch black. Now, I’m having trouble seeing at night, I have to wear my glasses and seriously take all precautions. Eventually, I left an hour earlier than the class’s ceasing, but, I did most of the closing and hopes my manager forgives me for not closing out the drawer since I knew the customers were going to buy things.

While I was waiting, I started browsing through cookbooks and came across one called, The Food Snob’s Dictionary. It’s a small little book, but, I sat down and gave it a read, eventually finishing it. That’s saying that it is a short book because I’m ADD when it comes to reading books unless it’s a chef biography or a cookbook. I used to read tons but that’s when I hadn’t anything better to do. When did my life turn chaotic? Sheesh. Anyway, the beginning passage of the book is this:

“Part groupie, part aesthete, part stark raving loon, the Food Snob is someone who has taken the amateur epicure’s admirable zeal for eating and cooking well to hollandaise-curdling extremes. He wears Bastad chef’s clogs even though he works in publishing or property law. He owns an $8,000 gas range with six burners and a griddle. He’s collected the cookbooks not only of James Beard’s first-tier protégés, Marion Cunningham and Barbrara Kafka, but also of the all-but-forgotten second-tierers John Clancy, Felipe Rojas-Lombardi, and Maurice Moore-Betty. He makes his own stocks, has taken a night course in mycology so that he may forage his own mushrooms, casually alludes to the “sugar work” he performed in the course of whipping up his famous homemade Christmas confectionery, and bakes rustic sourdough loaves daily from the pain au levain starter he’s had going since 1996.

In other words, he has gone to great lengths to distinguish himself from you, the mere food enthusiast, for whom watching Giada De Laurentiis on TV and cooking Mark Bittman’s “Basic Pot Roast” is kinda fun. Whereas you favor potatoes and onions, he traffics in celeriac and garlic scapes. Whereas you’re keen on Granny Smiths, he insists that you haven’t even tasted an apple until you’ve sampled a Newtown Pippin. Whereas you regard your outdoor gas grill as just wonderful, he grills only with fruitwoods and mesquite, brushing the coals with moistened vine cuttings when available. He considers Elizabeth David, Richard Olney, and Fernand Point his greatest influences, in particular the latter’s masterful Ma Gastronomie, in the original French, which— What’s that? You don’t know who these people are? Then...then shame on you!"
- David Kemp, The Food Sob’s Dictionary

I stopped dead and felt, well, torn. Torn for two reasons: a) it described me to a T, b) it described me to a T. I was ecstatic that I could be classified as a food snob, yet, I was embarrassed that I take things that far. Or, should I feel that way? I don’t know. I don’t know if I should be proud to be considered snobbish and obsessive or depressing that I allow it to consume my life. However, if I didn’t have cooking, I think I would be lost. Doesn’t that also apply to actors, writers, and other hobby enthusiasts? I think so. Mine just happens to focus on food and I know I often tell myself that I’m too gourmet for my wallet. I want truffles, leeks, Okinawa potatoes, taro, rich succulent expensive seafood, $18 a jar yacon syrup (actually I found that cheaper so I’ll be getting that soon but that‘s the Whole Foods price), goji berries, imported international fruits, a $7 cherimoya - and I can only afford onions, yams, agave, raisins, and apples. I can’t wait till I have money or more of it. I don’t know what’s worse, living here or Philadelphia with the prices of food. City living bites butt, but, the prices and products are more accessible as opposed to the stuff here. I never thought I’d miss the city so much. It wouldn’t be so bad if I could afford more things and patience is a virtue.

Even if being a food snob requires me to downgrade a little in product usage, it doesn’t mean I’m too good to make twinkies.

My father in law’s birthday was yesterday and the day before we were going to have a small party hosted by Phillip’s grandmother. Due to certain issues that rose, we had to cancel. Even so, I wasn’t going to let him go out without a cake. I remember waaaaay back last year, I teased and said I’d make him a giant hostess cake for his next birthday because he loved it so much. I try not to forget certain things and, I’m sure he did, but at least he got his surplus twinkie. When I came home from work, there was this huge chunk missing so I guess it was good by his standards. Phillip enjoyed it too since he knocked off the majority of my left over filling and crumbs. I let the boy go once in a while. I do it too. Too much deprivation leads to a fall (diet secret). The whole recipe was too easy. So easy, I disgust myself because I see how much trouble I have with bread as opposed to cakes and muffins which I can do blind folded. Rg!~ I did get one right but I’m still not 100% thrilled. Well, yes I am and I made another one that was okay. Its good, but, it needs tweaking.

For the twinkie, if you can remember, it is a dry gross little thing. I say this because when I was younger, I ate them like nothing. I would go through a box in two days. I was a fat child, 180lbs at 14. I ate junk food and everything wrong. When I realized that, it was makeover time. So, over the next two years I lost 70lbs and was a gorgeous teenager. I was fit, eating better, glowed - and then found out, at age 18, I had food allergies because I started losing too much weight even though I was eating and had the usual issues. I can not look at a twinkie or hostess cake again without feeling grossed out. I don’t crave them and I don’t really crave cake. I like pudding, I love fruit, and I love yogurt. Those are my indulgences. Oh and I love pumpkin with maple syrup. I’m a weird child, sue me.

But I made the twinkie. It’s a happy twinkie.


I just baked it in a small loaf pan 8x5”, dug out the insides, stuffed that sucker, and it was done. A twinkie is supposed to be, “a golden sponge cake with creamy filling” and that’s exactly what I made. The filling was a marshmallow butter cream as opposed to the standard. Reason being, go out and dissect a twinkie (yes, I did). Get your finger and press against the cream and then pull back. If you notice, it clings and doesn’t sink in like normal butter cream. It’s fluffy and whipped like, so, I thought to go with the flow and made an easy marshmallow butter cream.

Honestly, it’s easy.

And even though it is a low fat cake containing no eggs whatsoever - I wouldn‘t go and deep fry it; that’s really asking for it.

The Twinkie (Sponge cake)
½ cup tapioca starch
¼ cup millet flour
¼ cup potato starch
½ cup granulates sugar
½ cup confectioner’s sugar
½ tsp xanthan gum
½ tsp cream of tartar
1 tsp vanilla
4 eggs

Pre-heat the oven to 325 degrees.

Sift the flour, starches, gum and tartar together in one bowl. In another bowl, beat the eggs and sugar together very very well. Beat them until you see many bubbles. That air is what is necessary to make a light and delicate sponge. I think I whipped it for 3 minutes by hand with a large whisk. Baking is a great stress reliever. Gradually add the liquid to the dry and stir until a smooth batter is achieved.

Pour into an 8x5” loaf pan and bake for 25 to 30 minutes.

Remove and let cool.

Marshmallow Buttercream
1 cup vegetable shortening
1 cup confectioner’s sugar
7 oz marshmallow cream
1 tsp vanilla

Combine all ingredients and whip it good until it gets nice and fluffy.

There are many ways you can go about filling the cake. I just went the easy less complicated route, but, you can do it any way you desire. Pipe it in, make a plug, etc.

And if you’re too gourmet for a twinkie, you can always call it “Delicate Golden Sponge with a Marshmallow Crème filling”.

Snobism is actually a word too.