Pillsbury Dough Blogger

Little Noah Hubbard,
went to the cupboard,
to get his poor self some crackers.

But when he got there…

The cupboards were bare…

And he said, “let’s go buy somethin’ and make it.”

Poor Noah. We’re getting dangerously close to the big move, and because of that, nearly all the food has been packed. The dishes have been packed. The pots and pans and cookware has all been packed.

On top of that, for the past several weeks I’ve been determined to not buy any new food until after the move. It was fine at first, but then the good stuff disappeared. And then the mediocre stuff disappeared. And at the end, we were left with not a lot besides microwavable mac & cheese or canned corn.


Enter Pillsbury. The company that’s let the world poke their little dough-boy for decades… I got an email one morning, shortly after I had retreated from the kitchen still hungry. Still with an empty belly. “Hey Dan,” it said. It was my friend Catherine over at Babble Voices. “Pillsbury is willing to pay you to write a few posts and reimburse you for whatever you buy. You in?”

Just then, Noah ran in. “Dad! I’m hungry!”

“Aren’t there any crackers left?” I asked him. I knew there weren’t. I had just swept through looking for something for myself. Anything for myself.

“No, they’re all gone!”

“Aren’t there any fruit snacks?” I asked him. I knew there weren’t.

“No, they’re all gone, too!”

I looked over at the email. I didn’t see the “pay you” part. I saw the “free food” part. And I told Noah, “how about we go to the store and find something really yummy to make?”

He was in.

He didn’t have much of a choice. And neither did I. Not if we wanted to live.

So, we went to the store and found the awesomest looking Pillsbury thing we could find.

Now, I’d never heard of whoopie pies. And neither had Noah. But they sure looked fun. And they sure looked better than eating old uncooked pasta.

While at the store, we also bought a cookie sheet because I sure as heck wasn’t going to unpack anything to try and find them.

But… my brain was fried. And I forgot some other important stuff. Like eggs.

So we went to Nana’s house and borrowed some eggs.

And then we got back and realized I didn’t have any oil.

So we went to Nana’s house and borrowed some oil.

And then we got back and I realized we didn’t have a mixing bowl.

So I used the only dish that hadn’t been packed. A fancy schmancy punch bowl. And finally, armed with a plastic fork, Noan and I got to work on those whoopie pies.

Noah dumped the mix in.

Then he dumped the oil in (which we’d carefully measured into a little baggie over at Nana’s).

And then we realized we didn’t have a measuring cup for the water. So we found a dixie cup that looked like it was probably about 1/4 cup. And Noah poured the water in.

Now the eggs… I wasn’t really sure Noah was ready for such a tricky job. But he did it, and he did it with style.

And he mixed. And he mixed. And he mixed. And as it turned out, using a tiny plastic fork in a giant fancy schmancy punch bowl is not as easy as it should be. But he never lost the excitement for the whole thing. He was about to have some food in his tummy and some sugar in his blood stream. We both needed some sugar in our blood streams.

Of course, he had to lick the fork. It’s always the kid’s duty to test the batter. My stomach rumbled while I watched him. Happy that he was at least getting a taste of something good right now.

Next, Noah plopped spoonfulls of batter onto the cookie sheet to make, what I assume, are the pie parts of the whoopie pies. He did pretty good keeping them similarly-sized and shaped.

And then we baked ’em. And they were purty.

Once they cooled, we got to “the funnest part ever!” And Noah started squeezing the frosting onto each pie. We were finally getting to the whoopie part of the whoopie pies. I couldn’t blame him for his excitement.

I even let Noah spread the frosting all by himself. He did it like a champ and I kind of realized that sometimes I greatly underestimate my kid’s ability and coordination.

After all of that, the only thing left was to smoosh the two halves together…

And roll ’em in candy sprinkles.

And, oh yeah… we also got to eat them. And they were worth every bit of the last bits of our energy that we put into them.

And with that… I’d say definitely go try Whoopie Pies. They taste exactly like they look. Sugary, chocolatey, and delicious. But more than anything, they were a really fun one to make with my kid, and isn’t that what baking is all about sometimes?

Dan Pearce, Single Dad Laughing

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Article Posted 5 years Ago

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