Thank you Beekman 1802!

Look what arrived in today's mail - nothing like speedy service!

It's my Beekman 1802 Goats' Milk Caramel Cajeta and Goats' Milk Caramel Cajeta with Habaneros.  If you don't know what these are, check out my post:  Why I Love Josh Kilmer-Purcell.  My friend BW is staying with me for a few months after moving from Texas to Florida.  We brainstormed how we should taste test the cajeta.  I suggested on vanilla ice cream.  BW suggested pretzels.  I then suggested a vanilla ice cream pie with a pretzel crust and a warm apple topping.  Since it was late and I was very tan (and tired) from a day of sailing and then a very emotional evening of seeing the movie "The Help," we decided to put the cajeta discussion on hold.  Stay tuned to hear about our taste test!

I saw Viola Davis (star of the movie "The Help") on Broadway with Denzel Washington in August Wilson's "Fences."  For which both actors won the Tony award.  I adore Denzel Washington.  He is a magnificent actor.  But Viola Davis was the shining star above all.  She broke my heart and won me over with her subtle grace and dignity.  All my life I have received flack for being "a strong woman" - as if that is some sort of bad thing - a character defect.  I think Viola Davis emulates "a strong woman" in every single role she does.  I hope that I have even a fraction of the strength she displays.  Hollywood, please cast her in more roles.  We need inspiration beyond "Jersey Shore."  (Which yeah, I watch from time to time as well.  Full disclosure, people.)

I can't remember when I cried so much in a movie as I did during "The Help."  (Again, full disclosure people!)

Why I Have A Newfound Respect for Kalamazoo. Kalamazoo Olive Company - St. Petersburg, Florida

In another lifetime ago, I was the brash and spunky 23 year old Senior Law Clerk at a law firm in Buffalo, New York.  I will refer to them as Fantastic, Super and Awesome, attorneys at law.  It was by far one of my favorite places to work and only my fervent need to see the world beyond Buffalo, NY kept me from taking a permanent position there after I graduated.

The head partner at the firm - Mr. Fantastic - was an older gentleman.  He looked like someone's grandfather.  You were almost willing to bet money that he had a butterscotch in his pocket to hand to you if you were feeling blue.  He was also an amazing litigator.  He lived 6 months of the year in Sunny Florida and only returned to Buffalo, NY during the summers to litigate as many cases as we could book for trial during that period.  When Mr. Fantastic, Esquire was at trial, the whole law firm would shut down so we could all go and watch.  Forget Law and Order, Mr. Fantastic was pure Hollywood magic.  Skill, finesse and a cut-throat sharpness all wrapped up in a Grandfatherly smile. 

Mr. Fantastic was defending a medical malpractice case in court.  The plaintiffs had selected what had to have been the worst medical expert ever.  I swear someone must have said "Ohhh Aunt Shirley's little boy will be your medical expert for half the price of those big city folks - pick him!"  If you are bringing a shotgun case against each and every doctor who has ever treated you in the past 15 years, spend a little money and get a good medical expert witness.  You will not regret it. 

The plaintiff's medical expert witness was from Kalamazoo, Michigan.  He was quite proud that he was not only a medical doctor but also in his 2nd year of law school.  However he was awkward and bumbling on the witness stand.  He didn't know terms like "legal retainer."  He looked like a deer in the headlights.  There was nothing in his demeanor that said "expert" and in fact I wondered if the guy even knew how to tie his shoes.  I felt sorry for him as he hemmed and hawed and stared at his hands.  Plaintiff's counsel just sat there as the witness fell apart under cross-examination.  I wanted to smack Plaintiff's counsel in the head.  These are the moments when you lose a jury - DO SOMETHING!  My law firm represented the defense, so I suppose I should be happy that evidently Plaintiff's counsel was napping during cross.  I just hate to see poor legal representation.

When Mr. Fantastic, Esquire gave his closing remarks to the jury, he was better than any legal movie I have ever seen.  He knew where to stand, who to look at, how to lower his voice to draw the jurors in closer and then how to EXPAND his voice in a BOOM to make his points.  He eviscerated all the answers given by "The ... "expert" ... from Kalamazoo."  And after awhile, Mr. Fantastic just reduced the expert witness' name to "Kalamazoo."  "Kalamazoo will tell you ... but he's wrong."  "Kalamazoo thinks ... but he's wrong."  Members of the jury were snickering everytime Mr. Fantastic referred to the hapless expert witness as "Kalamazoo."  The expert witness' city of home residence became the final nail in the coffin of his credibility. 

The medical malpractice case had been incredibly weak before "Kalamazoo" took the stand.  It shouldn't have made it to trial to begin with and the expert witness did not do anything to strengthen the case.  The Plaintiffs did not prevail in their action.  Mr. Fantastic hit this one out of the park.

Whenever I hear "Kalamazoo" I think of that courtroom and the jurors snickering.  I miss Mr. Fantastic - he passed away five years after I graduated.  I miss his showmanship, his knowledge, his expertise and his warmth.  He was a great man and a great attorney.   

Many years later, I am quite far from Buffalo, New York.  I, like many of my friends in sunny Tampa, Florida, subscribe to the daily deals at Groupon.com.   One day, I received an e-mail advertising a Groupon for Kalamazoo Olive Company in St. Petersburg, Florida.  I had never heard of it.  I must have been in a manic state, because I didn't check out the store's website.  My thought process was merely: "I like olives.  I like olives for 1/2 price.  I like olives in Bloody Marys.  Mmmm... Bloody Marys.  I'm buying this Groupon."  (Prelude to: "Why I would have more money if internet commerce didn't exist.") 

The Groupon for the Kalamazoo Olive Company led a sad little existence, shoved between other papers on my dresser, for months.  Then one day, I had to go to downtown St. Pete and the remaining brain cells I have not killed due to excessive Bloody Mary gorging, shouted: "Hey, use that olive Groupon!"  Thank you hearty brain cells for remembering!!  I grabbed the Groupon and headed to St. Pete.

Kalamazoo Olive Company is on Central Avenue - and it's in what I call "The Danger Zone."  No, no - it's not crime-ridden.  It is located near The Cupcake Spot and Schakolad Chocolates.  For me, my friends, that is a dangerous place to be.  I held my breath and sprinted past the chocolate shop and the cupcake shop and ran into Kalamazoo Olive Company.  The owner, a lovely man named James Ryan, came over to greet me.  He is originally from Kalamazoo, Michigan and so hence the name of his business.

Now when I am shopping my usual reply to "May I help you?" is "NO! JUST LOOKING!"  OK, so I try to say it politely and not shout it, but it's a rebuff nevertheless.  However, as I gazed at the shiny metal vats all around me, I knew my usual "Just looking" response was not the correct road to take.  While the store is referred to as an "olive company" - it is actually a foodie wonderland of balsamic vinegars and infused olive oils.  There are also a wide variety of olives and gourmet foodstuffs, but if you're in Kalamazoo (Olive Company, that is) you need to go straight to the balsamic vinegars and olive oils!

I like to imagine myself as a minor league foodie.  I have watched every season of Bravo's Top Chef, for heaven's sake!  Heh heh.  Yet I was educationally unprepared for the culinary vacation, Mr. Ryan was about to take me on.  I was rendered mute and drooling at the fantastic array of flavors that Kalamazoo Olive Company offers.  I had a flashback to when I was 7 years old and learned that there are far better salad dressing choices that sickly sweet orange "French" dressing.  Mr. Ryan took me on a tour of his store, recommending a wide variety of olive oils and balsamic vinegars to try.  Prior to this, my only olive oil tasting was at Williams Sonoma and some remote little tourist shop in a village near Tuscany.  Both venues knew quite well that a majority of their clientele were foodie wannabes with little real food knowledge.  Myself, included.  So with that focus, the olive oil tastings I had attended served dry, tasteless country bread that you would use to sop up the oil and therefore "taste" the oil.  But what I tasted were oily, dried out, hard stinky socks.  That's what "olive oil tasting" meant to me. 

At Kalamazoo Olive Company, Mr. Ryan took a small cup and poured in drops of Harissa Olive Oil and then handed it to me to taste.  What?  My unsophisticated rube self appeared.  I'm just supposed to drink the oil?  Where's the old stale bread?  Seriously?  While I may be a rube at heart, I don't like to appear to be a rube.  So I snatched the paper cup and threw it back like a shooter.  The slightly warm Harissa olive oil coated my tongue with a tingly smoky spice.  My taste buds were transported to Morocco.  It was delicious.  Complex.  Spicy with warm notes without being searingly hot.  It was very nice and I was already planning recipes to use with it.

Mr. Ryan was like Willy Wonka.  He joyously showed me a wide array of pairings of balsamic vinegar and olive oil that excited and delighted better than any Gobstopper.  Lime, ginger, basil, Tuscan Herb, Pomegranate, Blood Orange, Cinnamon Pear, Chipotle, Porcini, Truffle, Coconut, Pineapple, White Lemon ... ahhhhhhhh.  I drank up every paper cup he handed me without hesitation.  Taste explosions!  I sampled so many pairings, my head started to spin.  Then the shopping commenced.  I saw a dark chocolate balsamic vinegar that I knew would be a great gift for foodie friends. So many choices!!

I intended to go in to Kalamazoo Olive Company to buy one or two things.  I left with a gigantic box bulging with infused olive oils, balsamic vinegars, olives, honey, gourmet snack treats and inspiration for many, many recipes I would like to make featuring these top notch ingredients.  I also ordered a 6 box combo pack of olive oils and balsamic vinegars to be shipped to my friends JB and AB as a thank you gift from a recent weekend stay in their home.  The shipping for these glass bottles is quite affordable with Kalamazoo Olive Company. 

After my visit, "Kalamazoo" no longer means "ridiculously inept medical expert witness."  It now means "Culinary heaven."  Thank you Kalamazoo Olive Company for reclaiming your city's good name in my memory.

If you're in St. Petersburg, Florida, do take the time to check out Kalamazoo Olive Company.  Your inner foodie will thank you immensely.  And if you're not in St. Pete, check out their website - they do mail orders as well.    

Why I Love Josh Kilmer-Purcell

In what feels like a lifetime ago, I stumbled upon a book called "I Am Not Myself These Days," a memoir by Josh Kilmer-Purcell.  I could relate to the title.  The distance between "Who I am" and "Who I want to be" seemed to be growing exponentially and there was no GPS to guide my way.  I was so out of sorts, I needed a new word for "lost."  Lost Deluxe?  Lost Supreme?  Lost with cheese and bacon, hold the tomato?  I was spinning.  Then somehow, not really sure how I found it.  I stumbled upon this book.  It had a funky 60's reminiscent aqua spiral with a somewhat morose and lost-looking, little orange goldfish/koi type fish on the cover.  Why was the goldfish sad?  Why was there a fish on the cover anyway?  Is this some sort of Austin Powers as a fish book?  There are questions to be answered.  This was a book that demanded to be read.

The goldfish might have looked lost, but it certainly did not lead me astray.  Josh Kilmer-Purcell's memoir was not similar to my own life history at all.  I'm not a tall drag queen with plastic dome breasts with goldfish swimming in them (A-ha! Goldfish reference understood!).  I only occasionally appear to be a raging alcoholic, but it's not my usual costume du jour.  No, I definitely did not relate to most of Kilmer-Purcell's life.  But I have felt down.  I have made the wrong call on a guy (more than once!).  I had had similar thoughts, emotions and chutzpah.  And it was this common chord that melted my heart.  Kilmer-Purcell's memoir was naked - sassy attitude without pretense, wry humor without wallowing bitterness, truth slowly earned through painful humiliation.  It was like watching someone put together a jagged puzzle.  With each page, the pieces were coming together and the picture created was beautiful, real and unashamed.  All of our experiences, good and bad, make us the person we are today.  I enjoyed traveling the bumpy road of Mr. Kilmer-Purcell's youth and feeling a bond in both his hurts and his success.  "I Am Not Myself These Days" was a wonderful journey.

From time to time, I would look to see if Josh Kilmer-Purcell had written anything new.  I wanted to step back into his world of truth with blemishes and all.   He had written a fiction book called "Candy Everybody Wants" but I am primarily a non-fiction reader.  I wanted reality, not made-up drama.

Then years later, I find myself in the Portland, Oregon airport.  I had a belly full of tater tots from Rogue Public Ale House and still had time to kill before my flight to Tampa, Florida.  I was traveling on my birthday.  The same date my driver's license expires.  I was scared that the TSA would argue that it was not a valid form of ID, so I arrived at the airport with plenty of time to argue and beg, if necessary.  Luckily, it was not an issue and now I was poking around the shops.  I spent a small fortune at Made In Oregon.  Had a decent meal at Rogue and now I was heading over to Powell's Books.  I had not had time in my journey to hit my favorite - the downtown Portland Powell's Books, so a small library annex location would have to do.  Sitting on a table near the front were two smiling Gentlemen Farmers.  What was this?  Then I saw the author's name ... Josh Kilmer-Purcell.  I grabbed it like it was the last lifeboat on the Titanic.  WHAT?  When did he write a new book?  And this is a paperback.  Evidently I had been out of touch for awhile.  The book was called "The Bucolic Plague: An Unconventional Memoir."  The cover said "How two Manhattanites became Gentlemen Farmers."  Now that, my friends, is a story.

I devoured the book in a little over a day.  I fell asleep with it in my hands and finished the book when I woke up.  My review on GoodReads.com reads as follows:    

Josh Kilmer-Purcell has done it again. His 2nd memoir rips my beating heart from my chest, squeezes it, then wraps it in a microfiber baby blanket, lovingly kisses it and then places it gently back into my gaping, bloody chest cavity. Someone please lock this man in a room and force him to write 24-7. I can't get enough of his quirky, fantastic, imperfectly perfect sense of humor and "sparkle." Excellent book.

I wonder why Hallmark never calls me to write greeting cards?

I'm not going to tell you what the 2nd memoir is about - you should just read it.  Or read about it at the http://www.beekman1802.com/ website.  Or watch Planet Green's "The Fabulous Beekman Boys."  But really you should just read the book.  It is peaches and cream with a shot of tequila. 

Josh Kilmer-Purcell's day job is as an Advertising Executive.  I love cold hard reality with blemishes and love of self, but I also love merchandise - shopping opportunities.  Josh Kilmer-Purcell and his partner Dr. Brent Ridge have turned a second home away from the city into not only a working farm, but also a re-energizing movement not only for themselves, but their fellow townspeople.  Their website http://www.beekman1802.com/ shares their adventures and more importantly for my tastes, things to buy.  In homage to Josh Kilmer-Purcell, I have ordered their Beekman 1802 Habanero Cajeta goats' milk caramel sauce.  Think dulce de leche sauce infused with Beekman Farm-grown habanero peppers.  In "The Bucolic Plague," Kilmer-Purcell wrote about how life can throw you a line drive to the groin.  The Beekman 1802 Habanero Cajeta sounds like a perfect metaphor for Kilmer-Purcell's life - smooth, silky with alternate layers of sweet and hot.  I look forward to its arrival.  But just in case the Habanero Cajeta is too much of a line drive to the groin versus a spicy sweet treat, I also ordered their Beekman 1802 Cajeta - Original - goat's milk caramel sauce sans habanero. 

Great book + great merchandise = I'm in heaven.

If nothing I have written makes you want to read "The Bucolic Plague," I have two words for you.

Bionic Cat.

You heard me.  Bionic Cat.  There's a bionic cat in "The Bucolic Plague."  I can't say "no" to a bionic cat.  Can you?

Chowda Chowda Chowda - Blue Mermaid Chowder House and Bar - San Francisco, CA

Where:  Blue Mermaid Chowder House and Bar - San Francisco, CA
When:  Dined Thanksgiving Weekend 2010


My baby sister ("TR") is 17 years younger than I am.  When she was maybe 5 or 6 years old, she looked at me with big brown eyes and said "Do you know Mom eats soup every single day?"  Our Mother is Chinese and yes, most of the meals she tends to eat come from the meat + veg + broth formula of cooking.  I thought back to the last couple days of my Mother's meals and sure enough, she had eaten soup every single day.  While I do not eat soup for every meal, my Mother's influence has quite clearly permeated my culinary tastes because I do enjoy a wide variety of soups, stews, chowders... put it in a bowl, hand me a soup spoon and my taste buds are happy! 


TR and I have a shared love of San Francisco and a shared love of New England style clam chowder.  TR's youth is filled with weekend trips to San Francisco Fisherman's Wharf and also trips to the clam chowder stand in New Orleans Square near Disney's Haunted Mansion at Disney Land in Anaheim, CA.  TR cannot say "no" to a gorgeous, lush, golden sourdough bread bowl filled with steaming clam chowder and neither can I.  My love of San Francisco stemmed from an early 20-something love affair with a Bad Penny of a guy who was going to school at San Francisco State University.  I ended the relationship within a year, but my love for San Francisco and its famous chowder still keeps going after all these years!


(Side Note:  If you find yourself in New Orleans Square at Disney Land, head over to Blue Bayou restaurant.  It's located inside the Pirates of the Caribbean ride.  Fantastic atmosphere and delicious food.  I wish we had one at Disney World in Florida.) 


TR and I took our Mother to San Francisco, CA for Thanksgiving Weekend 2010 as a belated birthday gift.  We had a wonderful time sight-seeing, shopping and having a decadent, gluttonous feast of Thanksgiving Dinner at the Ritz-Carlton Nob Hill.  However the part of the trip TR and I were most excited for was having a bowl of clam chowder in a sourdough breadbowl near Fisherman's Wharf.


We went to Blue Mermaid Chowder House and Bar at the Argonaut Hotel.  I love the decor- nautical without looking run-down or cheesy.  I chose the Blue Mermaid because they have a variety of clam chowders - Manhattan, New England, California, Shrimp and Red Pepper, Mussel and Sausage, Dungeness Crab and Clam Chowder.  And you can order a sampler and try 3 different kinds.  I tried the California chowder which had a swirl of pesto.  It was delicious- hearty, satisfying but also with a lighter veggie feel than a traditional thick New England style clam chowder.  The sourdough bread bowl was hearty and tasted great with the soup.  I also ordered the Parmesan-Garlic Fries - hot, garlicky goodness.  (Trivia question: Has Lily on the Lam ever met a Garlic-Parmesan fry that she didn't like?  Answer:  Hell no!) 

I apologize for not taking a picture of the chowder itself, but once I removed the sourdough bread bowl lid my spoon plunged in and the eating commenced!  Yum, yum and yum!


Although I was quite satiated by the delicious chowder and fantastic Parmesan-Garlic Fries, I did indulge with some dessert as well.  The specials menu had an apple fritter a la mode.  There is so much right with that statement - hot apples, deep fried dough, creamy vanilla ice cream.  They need to add this to the regular dessert menu.  It was tremendous!

Many people's favorite family memories revolve around food.  For me, I love that my baby sister and I have a long-running shared memory of clam chowder in sourdough bread bowls.  Just a few weeks ago, my sister texted me that she was craving clam chowder in a bread bowl.  The text came out of the blue.  And suddenly, we were sharing a mutual drool-fest over the thought of dashing off to San Francsico to indulge.  I was happy that our lunch at Blue Mermaid added another wonderful moment to our shared history of chowder memories.

Gobsmacked by Moonstruck Chocolates - Portland, OR

If you go to an office supply store and flip through every calendar, you'll see that Lily on the Lam's birthday is in July.  I believe it is a public holiday in most countries. 

For some masochistic reason, I decided to do a half-marathon on my birthday with my childhood friend, JB.  Now this particular half-marathon had two options - both a run and a walk.  But if you signed up for the walk, you had to agree that you would NOT run.  Or as I paraphrased "I am legally prohibited from running."  A 13 mile walk is no problem for me.  A 13 mile run is not so easy!  My friend was going to do the walk option so I did a "Ohh well I suppose if you're walking, then I should sign up for the walk instead of the run too." 

Now if you're planning on doing a half-marathon, whether you're running or walking; I have a tip for you.  Don't spend the prior 3 days before the half-marathon doing a culinary tour.  My friend lives in Portland, Oregon.  I flew up a few days before the half-marathon to spend time with her and sightsee.  And one of the ways I love to sightsee is through my stomach!

Portland, Oregon is a particularly good eating city.  I very much enjoyed eating my way through the "Rose City."  I'll save my other culinary exploits for future postings.  For this post, I want to focus on the nail in my half-marathon coffin.  The day before the half-marathon, JB and I went shopping and eating.  We had a lovely lunch at Elephants Delicatessen.  They have a mouth-watering pastry and chocolates area, but JB forbade me from having dessert at Elephants.  "But - but - their desserts look so good!"  I stammered.  I wondered why JB was suddenly so mean.  JB insisted that we save our appetites for Moonstruck Chocolate.  All I could think was "Pfft - why should I save myself for a piece of chocolate when I can get a fruit tart as big as my head, here??"  I briefly thought about outmaneuvering JB, vaulting over the bakery counter and shoving as many scrumptious desserts in my mouth before JB could drag me out.  Sigh.  I followed JB out of Elephants Deli and away from their beautiful, beautiful desserts. 

We walked around, letting our lunch digest and then headed to Moonstruck Chocolate.  I gasped when I saw all these truffles in the shape of animals.  Who can say "no" to a Black Cat Truffle?  I was overdosing on the sheer cuteness of it all!  So many truffles, so little time.  With a half-marathon in less than 24 hours, I should have picked the smallest item I could find.  Or even better, buy something and save it for after the half-marathon. But nooooo.....  Where's the fun in that? 

Instead I went full-force glutton.  I ordered an artisan s'more.  (You had me at artisan ... and s'more.)  I ordered a peanut butter cream cone.  (I love my peanut butter and chocolate!)  And then I wanted a drink.  How about a nice coffee to cut the sweetness of the chocolate?  Um yeah, no.  I ordered a chocolate peanut butter shake!  (Prelude to "How I died from a sugar coma.")

The artisan s'more tasted like a marshmallow between two vanilla wafers (maybe it was Graham but they tasted and looked like vanilla wafers.)  It was delicious.  Crisp, chewy, chocolatey.  Delectable.

Next, I moved on to the Peanut Butter Cream Cone.  I love peanut butter.  I love chocolate.  I had high hopes for this delicious bite of loveliness.  (In the picture below, the artisan s'more is on the left and the peanut butter cone is on the right.) 

I wanted to love the Peanut Butter Cream Cone.  I wanted to hold hands with it, skip through a meadow and sigh at it adoringly.  I wanted to scribble "Lily + Peanut Butter Cream Cone" in the margins of my 9th grade algebra notebook.  I wanted to fall in love with it.  I wanted to.  I have to say it was a bit of a disappointment.  Perhaps my palate is jaded by artificial peanut flavor, but I felt like the Peanut Butter Cream Cone was not peanut-buttery enough.  It was way too subtle.  I expected a burst of peanut butter flavor.  My expectations fell flat.  I regretted eating the calories on this one. 

What was not a let down in any way, shape or form was the Moonstruck chocolate peanut butter shake.  Decadence in a cup, covered with whipped cream.  Heady chocolate, smooth creamy peanut butter ... the peanuty goodness I was so seeking in the Peanut Butter Cream Cone was here in the shake.  It was beyond delicious.  It was transcendant.  If you find yourself in Portland, OR and you're a chocolate and peanut butter lover, get yourself one of these ...

I will whole-heartedly admit that a few minutes after gobbling 2 chocolates and a good portion of the rich shake, my stomach wanted to kill me.  And the next day during the half-marathon, I wondered if I had burned even 1/2 of the calories in the shake.  It was worth it though - I was gobsmacked by the chocolatey goodness of Moonstruck Chocolate.  Thank you for being one of the highlights on my culinary tour of Portland, OR!

My goal for the half-marathon was "1) Beat JB's time in a June half-marathon and 2) Not finish last."  I beat both goals AND got to indulge in chocolate.  Win-win!

Nutter Butter Cheesecake Truffle Balls

Happy August!  July was a big socializing month, but it's time to get back to the blog!  Awhile back I was lounging at the Clearwater home of TS and JS.  TS, a fantastic chef, had made a recipe he received from one of his colleagues - Oreo Truffle Balls.  (You can find this recipe on various spots on the internet, like at Kraft Recipes, About.com and for a great run-through of the recipe check out TheCapitolBaker.com.)  Now TS' Oreo Truffle Balls were what I will call "American-size" - generous portions.  They were like giant golf balls.  I gobbled a huge one up like the first peach of summer.  It was delicious.  Smooth, velvety and rich.  You would never guess that all it is - is just oreos, cream cheese and chocolate.  It rivals expensive truffles.  I mentally tucked the recipe in my brain for a future event.


So at the end of July when I was co-hosting an engagement party with GS and AL for KR and JG, I was excited to try out the Oreo Truffle Ball on my own.  But being a fan of all things chocolate and peanut butter I wanted to put a twist on the recipe. (Which by the way, have you tried Reese's Peanut Butter Cups Minis?  They should be banned, they are so good!  As the bagger at my Publix grocery store said "I love these because you don't have to unwrap each one - there's nothing standing in your way from all that deliciousness."  I believe that is a great opening line for a documentary "How I Became the 12 Ton Woman.") 


Pictured below is my creation based on the Oreo Truffle Ball recipe ... these are the last 3 truffle cheesecake balls and they were quickly gobbled up by friends after the picture was taken.

Here is my spin on the Oreo Truffle Ball - I call it "Lily's Outrageously Yummy Nutter Butter Cheesecake Truffle Balls." 


Lily's Outrageously Yummy Nutter Butter Cheesecake Truffle Balls
(makes 40 truffle balls)


Shopping List:
1 - 1 lb. bag of Nabisco Nutter Butter Cookies, crushed
12 ounces Cream Cheese
1 c. creamy peanut butter (you can use more if you like!)
12 ounces semi-sweet chocolate chips (I used Ghiradelli)
6 ounces Reese's Peanut Butter Chips
1-3 Tb vegetable oil, optional
1 c. Honey-roasted peanuts, crushed


Step One:  Find a cheery, optimistic friend who thinks dipping a large number of items in chocolate is fun!  (Thank you, LM!)


Step Two:  Take a one pound bag of Nabisco Nutter Butter cookies and crush them into a fine crumb.  (Preferred method: food processor.  Alternate method:  Sealed gallon size plastic bag and a rolling pin.  If you've had a hard day at work, this may be a good stress relief!)


Step Three:  Using a hand mixer (I was surprised that a hand mixer was better at this than the Kitchen Aid mixer) - mix in 12 ounces of cream cheese (yes, you can use Light/Neufchatel if you'd like) and 1 c. of creamy peanut butter (or more to taste - we used 1/2 a regular sized jar!) into the Nutter Butter crumbs.  You want this mixed well until it resembles a peanut butter cookie dough.


Step Four:  Grab said friend from Step One and using a teaspoon, scoop out a small amount of "dough" and roll into balls.  We made them about 1/2 the size of a golfball.  We ended up with about 40 truffle balls.  We placed the truffle balls on Silpat lined cookie sheets and then placed them in the freezer.  Freeze the balls for at least 15 minutes. 


Step Five:  Take one cup of honey roasted peanuts and crush moderately - you will use the crushed nuts as topping.


Step Six:  Over a double-boiler or in the microwave, melt the chocolate chips with the peanut butter chips and mix well.  If you find the melted mixture is not as smooth and easy for dipping as you would like, add 1-3 Tb. of vegetable oil and mix well. 


Step Seven:  Using a small skewer or toothpick, roll the frozen truffle balls in the melted chocolate-peanut butter chips mixture, coating the entire truffle ball in chocolate.  Place the ball on a Silpat-lined cookie sheet, remove the toothpick and take a small spoon of chocolate-peanut butter chip mixture and slowly dribble enough chocolate to cover the hole in the chocolate left by the toothpick.  Sprinkle with the crushed honey roasted peanuts.  (Side Note: I like to garnish with honey-roasted peanuts so that people who do not like nuts or are allergic, realize that the truffles are peanut butter-flavored.)


Step Eight:  Place truffle balls in freezer for at least 15 minutes.  I serve the Nutter Butter Cheesecake Truffle Balls directly from the freezer.


Step Nine:  Congratulate yourself that you found a sucker - um err friend - who dipped 40 truffle balls in chocolate without complaint.  (Thanks again, LM!)


We made both Oreo Truffle Balls and my spin on Nutter Butter Cheesecake Truffle Balls for the engagement party.  Hands down, the Nutter Butter ones were the party favorite.  Yes, it definitely took time to roll the truffle balls and dip in the chocolate-peanut butter mixture; but the result was a very fancy party dessert that was a hit.  And if you follow the above steps and con a friend, family member or significant other to do the heavy work for you; you can take all the credit while they do all the work!  Win-win!


Try out the recipe and let me know what you think!