Here’s How They Completely Ruin Our Hallowed Whoopie Pies In Pennsylvania
There are a few food traditions in Maine we take extremely seriously.
I certainly didn't keep it up as an adult, but when I was growing up, it was baked beans every Saturday night. If there were two things you could count on, without fail come Saturday, Lawrence Welk was on the TV at 5 p.m., and by 8 p.m., the whole house reeked of bean farts. From the day I was born, until the day I moved out.
The word "pie" is a contract that something edible is about to happen. The word "gob" sounds like what I pull from my dog when he eats too much grass.
And there were tons of other things too. And of course, my grandmother made seeeeerious whoopie pies. She had this amazing technique for just this hint of crispiness on the cake part, and sift in the middle. And she used buttercream instead of marshmallow-based filling. So frikkin' good...
But the name for whoopies in Pennsylvania is kinda nauseating.
For some reason, in Pennsylvania, they call them Chocolate Gobs. Like... who says to themselves, "I could really scarf down a big gob right now..."?! It sounds more like something I cough up first thing in the morning during a cold. It seems like almost anything would be a more appetizing name than Gobs.
Our name at least implies a kind of food. The word "pie" is a contract that something edible is about to happen. The word "gob" sounds like what I pull from my dog when he eats too much grass. Folks in the comment section on Reddit were equally not impressed with Gobs.
I can't think of anything we have that has a weird name for other folks. Except for the ones that don't understand what an Italian is. We're probably jerks for that one. But at least Italy sparks imagery of deliciousness. Pennsylvania is basically handing us a sin against nature. Shame on you PA.