Guilty Pleasures

You all know what I’m talking about. You’re on a 5 mile run, you’re feeling good, you’re digging in for the last stretch. On the way home, you pass a taco truck/pastry store/half-eaten Kit Kat bar on the ground (damn, Kit Kats are so good, who the hell eats only half?), then it hits you like a bird in the window. You think to yourself, “Mmm, I ran, like, 5 whole miles today. Totes deserve a reward. Totes.” (fyi, I do not, like, speak like this, like, ever.)

Next thing you know, your face is full and all the goodness adrenaline brings to your body turns into schmuck.

I couldn’t blame any of that on what I did this weekend.

choctruffles

What are these, you ask? My answer would be: an amalgamation of equal parts heaven and hell. Damn straight, I used the word ‘amalgamation’. Scrabble points!

POP ROCK CHOCOLATE TRUFFLES, B*TCHES.

Yet another one of my Heston Blumenthal-inspired creations. I don’t possess the fancy equipment or finesse that he does, so I’ll make whatever I can with it. #collegecooking. <= First hash tag phrase used ever.

No, these are not at all Paleo. I bet you could probably mess around with the substitutions, but I couldn’t deny myself of all the glory. My thighs feel differently, though.

On the plus side, my homies loved them. They make good little mouth bombs for parties and presents. So no regrets, okay thighs?

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