How to fix happiness in our glass & in our plate

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“When you wake up in the morning, Pooh,’ said Piglet at last, ‘what’s the first thing you say to yourself?’ ‘What’s for breakfast?’ said Pooh. ‘What do you say, Piglet?’ ‘I say, I wonder what’s going to happen exciting today?’ said Piglet. Pooh nodded thoughtfully. ‘It’s the same thing,’ he said.” --A. A. Milne

It was so hard not to snatch the signature Momofuku cartons up and gobble them the moment my flatmate came through the door with them in hand. I am so glad that I wound up living with these awesome people.

Sorry for the bad picture quality. My hands were shaking with anticipation.

I spent the rest of the night texting my friend Jess about how hard it was to restrain myself from running to the fridge and devouring every last bit. Like the wonderful, considerate friend that she is, she urged me to give in to my basest instincts and just cram it into my pie-hole. 

The moment I got up today, I just knew. That tantalizing little tease was going down. The pie, I mean. Not Jess. (Not that she doesn’t deserve it…)

It was, like all of Christina Tosi’s other creations, saccharine bliss. Tastebuds shriveled up with apoplectic joy and went to a sweet and salty afterlife. A crunchy, chocolatey crust, followed by a layer of almost a custard textured caramel, topped with crunchy peanut butter (Of which the crunch is provided by peanut brittle. Pure evil genius.), and finally a layer of milk chocolate and a pretzel. I tried all of the layers together. I dissected each one. I mixed them up. Every permutation and combination was indulgent and sinful. Crunchy, smooth, creamy, tooth-achingly sweet, suddenly salty; how is it possible to feel so much in one dessert?