It has twelve whole days since the rice crispy post. These last twelve days have been absolutely hectic, but I have not gone through any one of them without thinking about all of you a feeling a bit guilty for neglecting you for so long!
Rice crispy treats are like the epitome of camping. They are always held in the left hand while the right hand holds an impaled marshmallow toasting above the bonfire. A vegan marshmallow, that is.
This labor day weekend, Mitch and I spent the night with Drake and Marina, two of our very bestest friends, and we had the lovely opportunity to spend it in Marina’s 110-year-old log cabin. This was a real life log cabin, people. It was everything I had always hoped a log cabin would be, equipped with creaking doors, spooky tapping sounds in the walls (squirrels running through the logs, Marina explained), and no cable or internet connections.
While Mitch was at work last Tuesday, I spent the entire day experimenting to perfect these pot pie pockets. Pot pie pocket. Say that ten times fast, eh?
The smell of pot pies always sends me to warm and comforting childhood memories, when my mom would opt out of an extensive dinner from scratch and instead pop three little meal-sized pies in the oven, cutting our initials into the tops for identification: mine had a perfectly geometric “K,” hers a jagged “D” for Deborah, and my little sister, Lexxy, had the “L.” Sometimes after an hour in the oven, the “K” would be replaced with a puddle of pot-pie gravy, but that didn’t bother me one bit.
This cake is both the most decadent and the most nutritionally detrimental item I have ever made before. I should make a warning that you should only ever make it for special occasions because otherwise you might explode from eating all of the junk in here. It really is sinfully good, though.
I created this recipe impulsively while entertaining the possibility of making my own wedding cake someday. For the last year or so of our relationship, Mitch and I have planned to have a wedding on the same day that we first confessed our love for one another: November 8th. As time marches on, we lean more and more toward November 8th of next year but sometimes I get this devilish little spark of spontaneity, and I came up to him shortly before this cake was baked to ask him if we could just get married this November. As in we only have 8 weeks to plan and budget. I thought that the breaking point for our budget would be the cake, so if I made it myself we would clearly be fine.
You all should know now that I like my wonton soup AMPED UP. None of that broth-with-a-wonton-and-one-piece-of-spinach junk.
That being said, this recipe is fairly simple, and it modifies the traditional wonton soup vibe to be more filling. I know that this is against the wonton soup rules, as its meant to be a starter, but unless you’re running an asain restaurant, I don’t think anyone will complain about the additional ingredients.