Cherpumple

I write this post in the hopes of updating my faithful followers as to our experiment with the cherpumple over Thanksgiving. This 2014 Thanksgiving will be the remembered for being the year we made the churpumple and odds are that it will be the only Thanksgiving featuring that dessert. This endeavor isn't for everyone. And I don't mean to say that in a menacing I-dare-you-to-try-it tone, I say that because, frankly, it might not be worth repeating.

At the end of they day, one must remember that it's three frozen pies in the midst of those cakes. Frozen pies! Sherry has made superior versions of each of the pies in that monstrosity. But it would be a waste to put the time and effort into pies just to have them baked into the Godzilla of desserts. In essence, cherpumple forces us to visit the logic behind Papa John's slogan: better ingredients, better pizza. In this case, frozen mass-produced ingredients, mediocre dessert.

Frankly, the pumpkin-spice combination was disappointing. If I were to do this again, I'd replace it with blueberry.

Okay, away with the gloomy Gus portion of the review. Here's the fun stuff.

The basic ingredients. Stacked in order of final assembly. 

The pies on the way into the oven. 

Sherry and Anastasia did establish a rotation to ensure even cooking. 

Cooling. That description takes on more meaning given that Sam accidentally called the cake (see below) the "Chernobyl." The name has stuck. 

Cherry pie atop 1/3 of the white batter. 

Covering the cherry pie. 

Anastasia removes air bubbles before baking. 

Coverage.

She's such a talented baker. It's a shame Sherry was talked into this charade. 

A complete, un-iced layer. 

Before final assembly. 

Icing.

More icing.

Nearing the end. 

We contemplated a few means of actually cutting the thing.

An exquisite presentation. 

After serving the first slices. It was at about this point that Sam likened it to reactor 4 at Chernobyl. 

Catastrophe! At approximately 7:00 pm the top two layers began and epic slide off the serving dish. 

The serving dish after we moved the remaining half of the cake to a cookie sheet. 

Approximately 1/3 of the cake remains. Sherry and I both think the refrigeration is enhancing the cake's flavor, and we see no shame in eating the good parts while ignoring the not-so-good.

As our Thanksgiving concludes (and as I try not to succumb to pessimism that we all return to work and school tomorrow) I am thankful for having ate at three holiday meals for three consecutive days and didn't repeat a single menu item at any: a ham feast Thursday, a traditional turkey dinner Friday, and an Italian feast yesterday.

Enjoy the holidays, readers.