Whoop(s)ie Pies: Tangling with a Pennsylvania Dutch Classic

After spending eight hours on my feet making sandwiches, salads, croutons, and hot cafe beverages for hundreds of bakery patrons, is it really a good idea to go home and attempt a monster batch of Whoopie Pies?

 

A miraculously successful whoopie pie.

No, it isn't, but that's what I decided to do last Friday night.

I should have known that I was too tired for baking. I couldn't measure the ingredients for the life of me, and the mixing process was downright harrowing: I forgot how many scoops of flour I had put in at one point ("Was that scoop four or five? Do I risk two more? Four or five?! Gaaahhh!"), then I confused the baking soda with the baking powder and had to estimate the difference between one teaspoon and one-and-a-half tablespoons, and then I almost added an extra half cup of milk to the batter (the measuring cup was poised above the bowl when I said to myself, "Wait a second . . . wait a second . . . No! Stop it, hand! Stop!").

But I just had to have a whoopie pie. I hadn't had one in at least a year, and my whoopie pie biological clock was apparently ticking. I used to occasionally buy them from an Amish farmer's market near my house in State College, PA. According to Wikipedia and WhatsCookingAmerica.net, whoopie pies are a Pennsylvania Amish tradition. They used to be made from leftover cake batter. Amish wives would take the extra cakes, fill them with creamy frosting, and hide them in their husbands' lunch pails. When the men would open up the boxes and discover the pies, they'd shout "Whoopie!" Though the cakes originated in Pennsylvania Dutch country, they've spread throughout New England and are becoming popular all over the U.S.

Despite my struggles, my instinctive pie lust won out and the whoopie pies survived. In fact, nearly a hundred individual whoopie cakes survived, and I was baking the darn things until 12:30 in the morning! The recipe is huge: it calls for six cups of flour, two cups of cocoa powder, three cups of sugar, and three cups of milk.

 

The mixed batter.

The resulting batter is smooth, fluffy, and very, very abundant: using my large cookie scoop, the recipe made 98 individual cakes, which made 49 whoopie pies!

 

Scoops of batter.

 

The cakes on their own were dark, delicious, and rich due to the high ratio of cocoa powder to flour, not to mention the fact that there's both butter and oil in the batter recipe*. The bottoms were damp enough to cling to the parchment paper, and the tops were sticky enough so that the cakes glommed onto each other when stacked.

 

The baked whoopie cakes, plus the crumby remnants of the first sampler cake.

The frosting was no less rich. In fact, it's better not to think about the frosting at all. In fact, it's better not to read the next two sentences if you're weak of heart or stomach. So just repress this, will you? The frosting is traditionally made with Fluff, whole milk, and shortening. That's right, pure butter Crisco, straight from the tub.

 

Sweet, fluffy death.

But enough about nutritional values: the frosting is okay when sampled with a fingertip--it's fluffy and creamy and mildly sweet. But it's fantastic when sandwiched between two moist, dense, dark-chocolatey cakes. 

These tasted exactly like the whoopie pies I bought at my farmer's market in Pennsylvania. When I ate my first one, I could almost see the mounds of fresh corn and squash and shoofly pies, and hear the Dutch accents on the air!

When you have your head about you, this recipe is actually very simple and very rewarding. Whoopie pies make for great bake sale or birthday party fare, if you're not in the mood for decorating a big honkin' cake. They're easy to make assembly line-style: just mix, bake, cool, slap on a coat of frosting, sandwich, and stack! And, of course, you get a lot of product while dirtying only a few mixing bowls. 

 

About one-fourth of the total recipe output.

This recipe comes from Moody's Diner through FoodNetwork.com. The recipe for the cakes is nearly perfect, but I agree with the Food Network commenters who thought that the frosting was very authentic but a little too synthetic/nauseatingly rich. Some of the comments suggested Martha Stewart's whoopie pie filling recipe, which I'll probably try myself next time.

Whether you fiddle with perfection or not, I strongly recommend giving whoopie pies a try: you'll never eat another mass produced Moon Pie, Swiss Roll, or Oreo again!

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Whoopie Pie

From Moody's Diner and FoodNetwork.com

Cakes:

• 3 cups sugar
• 1 cup butter
• 4 eggs
• 1/2 cup vegetable oil
• 1 tablespoon vanilla extract
• 6 cups all-purpose flour
• 2 cups unsweetened cocoa powder
• 1 teaspoon baking powder
• 1 1/2 tablespoons baking soda
• 1 teaspoon salt
• 3 cups milk
• Filling, recipe follows

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F, or preheat a convection oven to 315 degrees F.

In a large bowl of an electric mixer, beat the sugar, butter, and eggs together until well combined. Add the oil and vanilla and beat again.

In a separate bowl, combine all of the dry ingredients. Add half of the dry mixture to the egg mixture and beat or stir to blend. Add 1 1/2 cups milk and beat again. Add the remaining dry mixture and beat until incorporated. Add the remaining 1 1/2 cups milk and beat until blended.

With a large spoon, scoop out 32 circles of batter onto a baking sheet. Bake for 10 to 12 minutes. Let cool.

Spread filling onto 16 circles and place remaining circles on top, to make 16 Whoopie Pies.

Filling:

1 1/2 cups shortening

3 cups confectioners' sugar

1 1/3 cups marshmallow topping

Dash salt

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/3 to 1/2 cup milk

In the bowl of an electric mixer, combine all ingredients except the milk and beat well. Add just enough milk to achieve a creamy consistency. Spread filling across cooled cookie circles.

 

The finished whoopies.

 

*Please note that whoopie pies are a leading cause of heart disease, stroke, diabetes, and Weight Watchers memberships. Please consume with discretion. And a napkin.