My Guiltiest Pleasures

I’m not talking the shaved frozen foie gras at Momofoku; I don’t mean the Spicy Pork Tacos from Kogi. I definitely am not referring to the “Coffee & Doughnuts” at The French Laundry. What I want here are your dirtiest, darkest, deepest desires that you’d ordinarily be embarrassed to discuss with your fellow gastronomes.

Here are mine, in no particular order because frankly – when the craving strikes, any one of these bad boys can vault to the top of my ‘must have NOW’ list:

*Jalapeño poppers from Jack in the Box w/ ‘house buttermilk sauce’ (aka Ranch).

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These fried bundles of joy brought me many smiles and more than a few pounds in college. I feel sorry for you east coasters that don’t know Jack, because this oddball gem – at least for a fast food menu – is quite literally the definition of a food that is disgustingly delicious. Oh yeah, I use THREE of the ‘buttermilk’ cups for a seven piece jalapeño.

 

*Reddi-Wip original cream, straight out of the can.

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My mom used to harangue me incessantly after catching me wrap my lips around the nozzle of this Thanksgiving pie-finisher. To this day, I keep a can in the fridge just to guide me through those tough days as an adult, if for only a moment to harken back to childhood.

 

*Reese’s peanut butter chips.

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The Pieces are great, the Cups are phenomenal, but these. . .these, allegedly, are for cooking. Too bad at my household they go straight into the freezer, only to be extracted by the handful when that late night hunger pang hits.

 

*Anchovy fillets in a tin.

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Kind of the oddball of the group, and mostly a guilty pleasure because of where they are consumed – at work. I keep a half dozen tins in my top drawer for those post-lunch protein swoons. If you wonder why the guilt, you can ask any of my coworkers, most of whom run for the conference room as soon as the lid is peeled back.

*Mocha Mix.

mochamix
Again, blame my Mom. Despite her Mrs. Gooch’s shopping, margarine mandating, soy cheese buying dogma, she always had that big yellow carton in the house. Poured generously with coffee, forming a soup for various berries or splashing into cereal, the creamy richness of Mocha Mix was a true treat. And now it’s often in my house, consumed similarly. Or, if I’m feeling particularly mischievous, a small glass of pure, unglamorous, I-don’t-even-know-what-it’s-made-out-of Mocha Mix.

 

Can’t wait to hear yours. Off to the kitchen. . .

 

pic of Jack poppers courtesy of violettenewyork.com

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