A few years ago, the big state of Maine unofficially announced that the “Whoopie Pie” was the unofficial treat of Maine. I thought to myself move over blueberry pie and moxie, make way for something new and fresh or different. Please don’t let Helen’s know in Machias.
My love for the whoopie came in the mid 70’s when my mother would make up about two dozen of these delicious treats every month or so. I have to qualify what I say because these pies were really not a treat but a bountiful meal. One pie could be cut into three parts for three different people or for me to hold and savor for a few days or if my hunger dominated, I would gulp down quickly. I imagined the three part whoopie on my plate reflecting the trinity and a Holy Blessing I would get. When my mother wasn’t looking I would jam the pieces in my mouth and swallow them whole. I guess I wasn’t worried about choking but quickly inhaling this gift of God! You just can’t take one bite!
My mom had a fondness for Tupperware. She held endless parties where all of the local ladies would come and sit around our living room and showcase the latest Tupperware craze. All of us guys were shuttled outside to talk about hunting, fishing or whatever. My Grandmother’s cupboards were so filled that every time I opened a cabinet door, a tower of Tupperware would come crashing out and land on my head. Mom ended up getting a big container that looked like Noah’s ark or the stern of the boat that Peter, James and John were in as they fought against the rough waves. That Tupperware ark was filled to the brim with whoopies. I can remember 24 at least and then you needed to really jam the cover shut. The divine ark had a proper place in the freezer. It wasn’t a standup freezer above the fridge but a floor chest. It required quite a bit of effort for me to reach down into that chest but for an 8 year old, it was worth the work and wait. There’s something about eating a whoopie that’s frozen. They last longer. Each bite contains more than a quick bite if thawed. Often if I ate them thawed, they would quickly disappear but something magical happens when frozen. There was something about opening the freezer with the cold air coming out and the ice crystals all around. The Ark of Whoopies was like a sacred chalice that was hidden away and special. I imagined Santa and his elves eating along with me. My love for the whoopie would go on hold for many years after becoming a celiac. My taste buds in my memory never disappeared though. They just laid low for a bit just waiting for the opportune time to arise again.
Living in Southern Maine, I could continue my love of the whoopie pie. Gluten free whoopies are now the latest craze at least for me. My mother’s tasted a lot like a Susie Q cake with vanilla frosting on the inside kind of a standard type taste. A pastor friend mentioned to me in Wisconsin the standard whoopie is a marshmallow pie. I thought Maine had the claim on the whoopie but I guess it’s real and alive in the Dairy state. I can imagine the filling being made from milk fresh from the cow. What I have now is a variety of pies that have blessed me. Imagine a spiritual application from a pie! Many flavors for many taste buds. Don’t think that the same old same old will continue, anticipate surprise!
At the Bow Street Market near LLBean there are a variety of these pies. One of my favorite is the vegan oatmeal whoopie. What I love about this pie is the taste of richness. The oats add a lot of depth. Or maybe by just looking at them, you can see the texture on the surface. They have a pumpkin whoopie for the fall. Each bite helps me to anticipate the coming of Halloween along with reminding me of the fall harvest and the changing of the seasons.
In Portland is Bam Bam bakery that has a chocolate whoopie made of rice grain. The filling is so rich and abundant that I always end up with more on my fingers and face when Rhonda and I walk around South Portland. I always ask her to see if any is on my face to which she always says, “yes” by pointing to my lips. And with that always an invitation for a holy kiss.
Pine land farms out past Gray Maine had some of the biggest whoopies that I had every seen. They were sickening sweet with a filling that gave you a high that would last all day. Imagine eating something where the flavor and fill will stay with you till bedtime. Give us this day our daily bread…
Portland Maine has a minor league baseball team “The Portland Sea Dogs.” The mascot is “slugger” who is actually a seal of the ocean. One summer, the team changed the moniker to a whoopie pie. It was funny to see this image on the front of a baseball cap. For one day, the team was the “Maine Whoopies.” I can imagine the whole team on the field each with a whoopie hat. Maybe the laughing stock of the minor leagues? Oh’ who cares! Laughter is healing to the soul. Probably whoopies were handed out to fans. All of that delicious filling will either put everyone to sleep or more yelling at the stadium.
Do you have a favorite snack? What do you like to eat that brings great joy to your soul? For the past year or so, as I’ve made my journeys I’ve noticed that everyone needs something special to eat. Each of us needs to be sustained, filled up, enjoy the tastebuds, savor the oats, lick the chocolate, and drink the cup of grace that Jesus wants to give us. When He feeds, he gives us pleasure, joy, and a great abundance. It doesn’t always look the same. Jesus isn’t stingy. He loves to laugh, touch our face, touch our lips, give us delicious grace that keeps us full each day and for eternity.
Rev. Dr. Michael Glidden
North Deering Congregational Church in Portland
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