almost as big as my head, no??
it was smoky and crispy and moist and juicy and perfectly seasoned.
and so of course, while I was frolicking around the Renaissance Festival, I just could not pass up the deep fried oreos.
Oh yes, I went there.
And dusted with a mass of powdered sugar. Perfect little pillows nestled right in my paper basket.
The chocolate melts inside and you're left with a crispy, doughy bite and an ooey-gooey chocolatey center. It doesn't ooze out chocolate, it's just a warm chocolate center surrounded by this fluffy outer layer of dough.
It's so wrong, it's right.
Here's the problem with fairs and festivals: I wish I could somehow own a second stomach that I could use only in these kinds of instances where the food surrounding me tempts me and calls my name and I want nothing more than to scarf it all down.
Like the kettle corn, with its nutty, sweet scent wafting through the air. I get lifted and carried right to it. Or the funnel cake! Or smoked sausages. Or just everything...
Makes me want to plan another trip next weekend just for the food.
And perhaps, also, a wax hand.