Guilty Pleasures

Regular readers of mine have, I think, become accustomed to reading about the local, the fresh and the relatively healthy in this space.

Indeed, there is nothing that gets me excited quite so much as fresh ingredients. Minutes ago, I unpacked a bag of organic produce into my fridge, squealing over every item, each so lush and colourful I wanted to fetch my camera and take pictures of it.

It's easy to cook and eat well in these parts and most of my time and energy with this column goes into finding people, places and ingredients that allow us achieve that.

But today I'm venturing over to the dark side. Purists, avert your eyes. I have some no good eating habits and I'm going to reveal them. Then I'm going to corrupt you (or at least try) with a recipe. C'mon, now: find me a person that doesn't occasionally indulge in something they'd be embarrassed to be spotted eating and I'll find you a liar.

Though I've always had my guilty pleasures, being pregnant has given me both no excuse (what worse time than to fill your body with processed, prepared foods) and every excuse (I'm gaining weight anyway, and might as well get these cravings met and out of the way) to eat naughty things that I otherwise try quite hard to ignore.

Such as? Well, Kraft Dinner, which I love to the point that I can't even keep an emergency stash in the house because it would never last to see an emergency. I also love Tater Tots, HP Sauce and those bags of assorted Peek Freans sandwich biscuits (you know, with the round ones with the sugared jelly centre -- my husband and I once stood for what seemed like minutes and stared longingly at a bag of them in the supermarket, waiting for one of us to break down and put it in the cart).

Other vices: Alphagetti, Cheez Whiz (on toast, preferably rye) and ketchup chips. And Helluva Good Dip on ruffly chips at the cottage is another fave, one that inevitably gives me gut rot because I cannot find the off-switch.

This particular recipe is for something I saw the queen of Southern kitsch, Paula Deen, making on Food TV. I immediately looked up the recipe, printed it, and emailed my mom to tell her I was bringing my own cake to my forthcoming birthday dinner.

I made this dirty little treat in about 15 minutes and everyone licked it up, including my brother, who, hours earlier, proclaimed that nothing ruins an ice cream sundae like banana. Paula says this recipe feeds 10 to 12. Some flexibility is required because you're probably unlikely (as I was) to find jars of sauce the size she has suggested and will end up using some guesswork. In fact, I winged it and made a smaller 9x9 pan version and it worked out just fine. This isn't rocket science, after all.

I made two official adjustments here. Paula uses "milk chocolate covered toffee bits" but I substituted salted peanuts because I thought a contrast to all the other sickly sweet ingredients was in order. Ms. Deen also wishes us to top the whole shebang off with "nondairy whipped topping," which you and I know as Cool Whip. That's one low I won't sink to. I whipped up some of the real thing instead.

Don't worry, there's plenty left to feel guilty about. I heard on the radio this morning that if one knew how maraschino cherries were made, they'd never eat them again.

Frozen Banana Split

24 ice-cream sandwiches, unwrapped

6 medium bananas, peeled and thinly sliced

1 12-ounce (350 mL) jar hot-fudge sauce

1 12-ounce (350 mL) jar butterscotch sauce

1 12-ounce (350 mL) jar maraschino cherries, drained and finely chopped

8 ounces (225 g) salty peanuts

1 250 mL container whipping cream, whipped to soft peaks and sweetened with a tablespoon or so of sugar

coloured sprinkles, if you're so inclined

Line a 13x9 inch baking pan with aluminum foil, leaving some overhang. Place half of ice-cream sandwiches evenly over bottom of pan, completely covering bottom and cutting sandwiches to fit, if necessary. Top evenly with banana slices. Pour hot fudge sauce over bananas. Top with cherries and half of the peanuts and pour butterscotch evenly on top. Layer with remaining ice cream sandwiches and spread whipped cream over the top. Sprinkle with remaining peanuts and coloured sprinkles. Cover and freeze for at least four hours. Remove from pan using foil handles. Cut into squares and serve.