Elizabeth and I had a moment of brilliance.
The Back Story:
It's no secret that I love cake balls. I REALLY love cake balls. And, so when I recently opened my internet browser and was slammed in the face with an unsolicited article in the Dallas Observer that referred to cake balls and cake pops as "bastardized cake," I took it as a personal attack. It hurt my heart.
It was blasphemy, pure unadulterated blasphemy. Because, what could possibly be better than a slice of cake?
Well let me tell you. It's a bite-size ball of cake . . . with a flawless ratio of cake to frosting . . . and a protective shell. What's not to love? The cake ball is portable and tidy and perfect in every way.
I love them on a stick:
|Bakerella is a baking wizard|
I even love them on a plate:
|these are actually mine|
|this looks crazy good|
|geez louise these look good|
The Brilliant Idea:
Then Elizabeth heard of a place in Oklahoma City called Waffle Champion that sells waffles stuffed with all kinds of goodies from fruit to ice cream to eggs to meats . . . to cracklins. Seriously, you can get a waffle with cracklins:
|this waffle is no joke|
And that got us to thinking:
But, if the lawyering thing doesn't work out for me. And, if the landman thing doesn't work out for Elizabeth . . .
I think we should make a go of it. And, when we are a success (and we WILL be a raging success), maybe Awesome Jeff will upgrade us to this:
Damn. All this talk just made me hungry.