Scream (R)

Scream (R)

Another girl, another ghostface but same old Woodsboro in Scream, the fifth movie in the Scream series, which started way back in the prehistoric days of 1996.

That movie was also called Scream. This Scream, hewing to its meta roots, explains how franchise continuations these days can’t just reboot from zero and they can just be straight sequels, making this a “requel” combo of new blood and legacy characters.

Sure, kids, let’s.

Another Woodsboro high schooler, Tara (Jenna Ortega), answers a landline expecting an acquaintance and instead getting chatted up by an unfamiliar voice about scary movies. Unlike Drew Barrymore during the Clinton administration, Tara isn’t killed, just horribly horribly injured. Her estranged older sister, Sam (Melissa Barrera), returns to Woodsboro to tend to her — with boyfriend Richie (Jack Quaid) in tow. Sam explains to Richie that her town has a history with slashers, how every few years some killer puts on a ghostface mask and reenacts the murders of the friends of then-teen Sydney Prescott (Neve Campbell), crimes that eventually fed the popular Stab movie series. What she doesn’t tell him right away is that she has a connection to that original spate of murders and she’s afraid that that connection is why her sister was targeted.

When more people are killed, Sam turns to an expert — Dewey Riley (David Arquette). No longer a sheriff and divorced from wife Gale Weathers (Courtney Cox), Dewey is reluctant to get involved but, of course, he is eventually drawn in. Naturally, Tara has a friend group and it is through them that we learn the rules of the requel and how Stab (and Scream) is a conscious back-to-basics approach to horror in a world where elevated horror-as-social-commentary entries are getting more of the spotlight.

These are all cute ideas and the movie executes them totally OK-ish-ly. The first Scream made its mark with not just its humor but the way it messed around with the rules of classic horror while also following those rules. There is some of that here, some messing around with our expectations and what a “requel” needs to be, but I feel like there was one extra turn, one extra bit of off-kilter-ness needed to make this pop. When it comes to the legacy characters, the movie makes good use of about half of them. I like the character of Sydney as presented here but the movie seems to run out of things for her to do. Cox’s Gale doesn’t have much to do from the start and really seems like she was inserted just to bring in those streaming-era Friends binge-ers.

Likewise, the new blood, as I’m pretty sure the movie itself calls them, are spunky modern-horror teens similar to the kids from those Netflix horror movies from last fall. Their pre-loaded self-awareness, though, makes their discussions about “who is the killer” and “who is the main character” feel less like a bit of meta cleverness and more like just how these very online kids talk. It is all fine but it did not particularly tickle me with its wit. Barrera, whom I have most recently seen before this in In the Heights, is a good lead, perfectly able to do both the scream queen stuff and the “girl fights back” bits.

This movie is perfectly accessible to fans of the original Scream movies and moviegoers too young to remember them. It goes down smooth, even if it isn’t particularly complex or inventive and doesn’t leave you wanting even a little bit more. C+

Rated R for strong bloody violence, language throughout and some sexual references, according to the MPA on filmratings.com. Directed by Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett with a screenplay by James Vanderbilt & Guy Busick (based on characters by Kevin Williamson), Scream is an hour and 54 minutes long and distributed by Paramount Pictures in theaters.

Featured photo: Scream.

Out of Office, The Big Problem and Bigger Promise of Working from Home, by Charlie Warzel and Anne Helen Petersen

Out of Office, The Big Problem and Bigger Promise of Working from Home, by Charlie Warzel and Anne Helen Petersen (Knopf, 272 pages)

We are just now beginning to see how Americans’ work lives may have forever been changed by the pandemic, and in Out of Office, Charlie Warzel and Anne Helen Petersen craft a vision for how things could be better for the so-called “knowledge workers” who are able to do some or all of their jobs remotely. With some companies already announcing that they will be fully or partially remote even after the pandemic ends, this isn’t necessarily cause for celebration for people sick of working in their basements. But the authors begin by arguing that what we’ve been doing for the past two years isn’t truly remote work, but remote work during a stressful pandemic while homeschooling and wondering where the next roll of toilet paper is coming from. In other words, forget the past two years. Instead, dream with them about working fewer hours with no commute, fewer unnecessary meetings, more time to focus on the most important and fulfilling aspect of your job. It’s not The 4-Hour Workweek promoted by Tim Ferriss, but a more realistic fantasy.

And it’s necessary, the authors say, because the workforce is “collapsing” under the pressure of what they called fetishized standards of productivity and the hours we work: more than workers in other Western nations.

Among their points:

• To improve work life, we need not boundaries but guardrails. Boundaries are permeable. Guardrails protect. “Not because we’re fragile or undisciplined, but because the forces that undergird work today — especially the obsession with growth and productivity — are indiscriminate in their destruction,” the authors write. Other countries have guardrails that have been legislated, such as France, which passed a law in 2016 aimed at discouraging people who work at large companies from sending or replying to emails after working hours.

• Four-day work weeks can be achieved when companies eschew “faux productivity” and focus on getting important stuff done in less time. Companies can create policies that don’t accidentally discriminate — for example, childless people should be entitled to leave or sabbaticals without going to the trouble of having a baby. Like remote work, flexibility in employment is not necessarily a perk, the authors argue, but an opportunity to work 24-7. True flexibility would be like the software developer who gets much of his thinking done on a hiking trail, or the graphic designer who works for a few hours in the middle of the day, then three hours in the evening, building her day around the needs of her young children.

Companies like theirs operate with a culture of trust, “granting real freedom to make small and occasionally large decisions about when work should be done. … They’re focused not on immediate growth but on long-term vision: retaining valuable employees in a competitive industry.”

• Be suspicious of companies that present themselves as a family, rhetoric that emerged in the past half-century. “Treating your organization as a family, no matter how altruistic its goals, is a means of breaking down boundaries between work and life.” What many of us need is not a work “family” to compete with our own, but more emotional distance from all-consuming work.

In recent years, tech companies have normalized lavish perks that have contributed to this sense of work being a second home, from pool tables and pinball in break rooms, to free gourmet coffee and snacks, to bring-your-dog-to-work days. In order for a new hybrid model of work to succeed, offices need to be less appealing to workers, not more. Otherwise, remote workers already anxious about their relative invisibility, compared to people who keep showing up, suffer FOMO, fear of missing out, leading to even more stress. Companies need to create a culture in which there is truly a level playing field whether you’re remote or in an office building, Petersen and Warzel say.

• Remote workers contribute to their own stress by doing something that the authors call LARPing; the acronym stands for live-action role playing, and we do it at work when we become obsessed with constantly looking like we’re working, even when we ostensibly shouldn’t be. (An after-hours response to an email or Slack message is an example.) “A flare sent into the air to show you’re working incites others to send up their flares, too,” the others write.

In the end, Petersen and Warzel describe today’s knowledge workers as enduring a sort of carnival horror house of employment. In doing so, they make remote work sound worse than it is; there’s a reason so many workers are refusing to go back to the office, and it’s not all Covid-19-related. On the other hand, there’s also a reason for what’s been called the Great Resignation, and it’s not that we’re all clamoring to drive for Amazon.

Post-pandemic, we’re not going back to the lives we led in 2019, and Out of Office is part of the thoughtful conversation that needs to take place before we mindlessly take on other ghastly routines. Not every idea presented here is sterling; I’m deeply suspicious of the authors’ argument that cutting back on office time frees us to volunteer in our communities. That may solve some societal problems, but still leaves us with exhausted citizens. Also, the ideas presented in Out of Office may inspire hope among knowledge workers, but most have little power to change their own circumstances; it’s their bosses who need to read this book and sign on to the ideas. Workers can, however, help to foster change by thinking about why they revere hyperproductivity, a mindset the authors argue is a relic of the agrarian past. “Who would you be if work ceased to be the axis of your life?” they ask. While much of this book could be condensed into an article in The Atlantic, it’s good that the authors are posing the question they raise here. B-

Book Notes

Reader’s Digest Condensed Books are a thing of the past (we have SparkNotes with which to cheat-read now), but there are still “Book of the Month” clubs out there that offer to send you a book every month in the genre of your choice. Given that Americans read 12.6 books, on average, in 2021, according to Gallup,they’ve at least got the pacing down right.

But there’s another way to see books of the month — quite literally.

Last year, for example, The Ten Thousand Doors of January by Alix E. Harrow came out in paperback (Redhook, 416 pages). It’s a well-reviewed novel about a 17-year-old girl from Vermont named January who finds a peculiar book that leads her on a fantastical adventure. Reviewers called it magical and inventive.

Let’s move onto February: February House (Mariner Books, 336 pages) is “the story of W.H. Auden, Carson McCullers, Jane and Paul Bowles, Benjamin Britten, and Gypsy Rose Lee, under one roof in Brooklyn.” And you thought your bathroom was crowded. Sounds a bit like the Algonquin Roundtable, 24-7.

March: No way to begin spring without Little Women, so let’s do March: A Novel (Viking, 288 pages) by Geraldine Brooks, who envisions the Civil War experiences of the absent father of Meg, Beth, Jo and Amy.

April: One Friday in April: A Story of Suicide and Survival (W.W. Norton, 144 pages) is a gripping memoir by Donald Antrim, released last fall about his near suicide and struggles with depression.

May: Eight Days in May (Liveright, 336 pages) is another fall 2021 book that examines the collapse of the Third Reich. The author, Volker Ullrich, is a German historian, and the book was translated into English by Jefferson Chase.

June: Seven Days in June (yes, there’s a pattern here) is a celebrated novel by former beauty editor Tia Williams released last June (Grand Central Publishing, 336 pages). It’s about a pair of writers who had a fleeting romance as teenagers, then parted ways yet continued to write about each other in their books — while pretending not to know each other as adults.

Promising stuff here, if you missed these books when they first came out. Next week: July through December.

Book Events

Author events

• TOM RAFFIO Author presents Prepare for Crisis, Plan to Thrive. The Bookery, 844 Elm St., Manchester. Thurs., Jan. 27, 5:30 p.m. Visit bookerymht.com.

• CHAD ORZEL Author presents A Brief History of Timekeeping. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 27, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• ISABEL ALLENDE Author presents Violeta. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Sat., Jan. 29, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration and tickets required, to include the purchase of the book. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• JOHN NICHOLS Author presents Coronavirus Criminals and Pandemic Profiters. Virtual event hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Tues., Feb. 1, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

Book Sales

• USED BOOK SALE Used books for $1, $3 and $5. GoodLife Programs & Activities, 254 N. State St., Unit L, Concord. Jan. 10 through Jan. 21 (closed Jan. 17). Monday through Friday, 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Visit goodlifenh.org.

Poetry

• CAROL WESTBURG AND SUE BURTON Virtual poetry reading hosted by Gibson’s Bookstore in Concord. Thurs., Jan. 20, 7 p.m. Via Zoom. Registration required. Visit gibsonsbookstore.com or call 224-0562.

• ROB AZEVEDO Poet reads from his new book of poetry, Don’t Order the Calamari. The Bookery, 844 Elm St., Manchester. Thurs., Feb. 3, 6 p.m. Visit bookerymht.com.

Album Reviews 22/01/20

Bird Friend, Carolyn Know (self-released)

Fans of folk revivalists like Karen Dalton and Jackson C. Frank, Manchester local Geoff Himsel and his girlfriend and musical co-conspirator Carson Kennedy were covered before on this page back in June 2020, upon the release of their I Am The Hand album, which was a pretty trippy little joint, full of real-sounding samples of rain, train station sounds and thunderclaps. Thankfully the pair hasn’t lost their taste for weird-beardness; opening track “Will You Miss Me/A Brighton Beach Of The Body” begins with some sort of circa-1930s-sounding radio broadcast, which is charming on its own, and then the duo ease into some organic, vintage-sounding busking that evokes Dust Bowl sharecroppers on a deserted street corner. More old-time-radio chatter and happy desolation ensues, most agreeably on “Angel Was My Friend,” at which point you begin picturing unplugged Woodstock performances of old, things like this. Some courageous, warm-hearted stuff here. A+

Pete Malinverni, On The Town: Pete Malinverni Plays Leonard Bernstein (Planet Arts Recordings)

Well that makes two winners this week, this one more in the category of records to be listened to when you absolutely, positively must chill. Jazz pianist Malinverni has been a fixture in the New York scene for 40 years if I’m reading this right, and toward our purposes, one of the highlights of his career was meeting legendary composer Leonard Bernstein. For what it’s worth, I totally get that; the first rock star I met still evokes memories of encountering a being not of this earth, so I can understand why Malinverni felt the need to, well, commemorate that meeting at long last. And so our principal here settles in with bassist Ugonna Okegwo and drummer Jeff Hamilton to deliver stunningly genial versions of such classics as “New York New York,” “Some Other Time” and “I Feel Pretty” with the utmost care; the renditions feel intimate, playful and absolutely spot-on. A+

PLAYLIST

• Yo homies, Jan. 21, is creepin’ up on us, bearing with it “gifts” of hot new albums, for you to buy, ignore or, in my case, see if they make me barf! These are the days that try men’s souls, nothing but frozen tundra, slush and Alaskan mountain blizzardry until July, when we switch over to baking ourselves like microwaved Hot Pockets just to get low-grade lattes! But our North Pole life isn’t our focus today; no, we’re supposed to be poking innocent fun at new albums. Say, do you remember when X-Files person David Duchovny made a couple of albums and I was super-nice to them here, except for the part where I said they kind of sucked? What about when Billy Mumy from the 1960s TV show Lost In Space made some albums, and they sucked because there was no Dr. Smith freaking out and screeching in fear? I wonder if any more overrated actors will ever dare to step in to my critical crosshairs, to risk everything to see if I can stomach what musical thing they’re attempting, oh wait, look, it’s none other than Kiefer Sutherland, former Lost Boys and 24 star and now de facto president of the United States, with an album of his own, called Bloor Street, due out Friday! Bloor Street is an actual place in Toronto, Canada, which is north of us, covered in snow and ice, a place where you always have to watch out for Grinches and Abominable Bumble monsters until the weather turns warm in — well, it never does, so maybe Kiefer’s album is about his boyhood times living in a Toronto igloo before his famous dad Donald let him come to live with him in Hollywood, I have no idea. I know, I know, let’s get this over with, there’s some dumb YouTube video for the title track of this album, I’m going to go and see if I can stand it right now! Whoopsy daisy, Kief, way to rip off the guitar part from Bob Seger’s “Against The Wind,” what are you even doing. I don’t know, I suppose the rest of it is OK, if you like bands like Train. I don’t, so so I’m just going to move on to our next tale of terror. Let’s go, folks.

• Yes, finally I catch a break, after no new albums to talk about for weeks, here they are, my favorite psychedelic-stoner-rock band, only because their name is super-long and fills up all sorts of column space, yes, it’s Australian boneheads King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, with their first album of 2022, Butterfly 3001! Mind you, this is a remix album, and — holy crow, look at the participants, DJ Shadow did a rewrite of “Black Hot Soup” and called it “My Own Reality,” but this might be a troll on King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard’s part, because I can’t find proof that DJ Shadow did anything with that Blind Melon-ish song, so forget it, but Canadian punker Peaches’ remix, “Neu Butterfly 3000,” is super cool, draped in a busy, pretty world-music fractal.

• Yikes, time for me to waddle out of my comfort zone and talk about Things Are Great, the new LP from Seattle folk-indie dweebs Band of Horses! I don’t wanna, but I’ll listen to the single “Crutch” only because you demand it. Yuck, as always, it sounds like a B-side from the ’70s band America, like it’s music to shear your sheep to, aren’t sheep so cute, get me out of here before I melt down completely.

• Last but not least, it’s pale and slightly edgy-looking Norwegian synthpop girl Aurora, whom I’ve never heard of, ever, with The Gods We Can Touch, her new album! Hmm, I actually like the single, “Giving In To The Love,” it’s got some big bouncy Blue Man Group-style drums, ABBA-pop hooks, some Zola Jesus edge, there’s nothing wrong here folks, great stuff.

If you’re in a local band, now’s a great time to let me know about your EP, your single, whatever’s on your mind. Let me know how you’re holding yourself together without being able to play shows or jam with your homies. Send a recipe for keema matar. Message me on Twitter (@esaeger) or Facebook (eric.saeger.9).

’68 Barracuda

The idea had been a solid one: walking around Boston’s North End, comparing the ricotta pie at as many Italian bakeries as possible.

Okay — I was comparing the ricotta pie. The rest of my party was comparing cannoli.

I get it — cannoli are good. Extremely good. But let’s face it. They’re no ricotta pie. I feel strongly about ricotta pie — to the extent that I fervently believe that if they held a Miss Greater Boston Italian Pastry beauty competition, an actual slice of ricotta pie would almost certainly win. Yes, the other girls would cry.

Until they ate the winner.

At any rate, we had taken a short break from pastry-eating and had stepped into an Italian deli to get warm. The rest of my group was oohing and ahhing over imported pasta and balsamic vinegar. I was looking at the olives in the deli case, when I accidentally made eye contact with the man behind the counter.

He gave me a half chin lift nod of recognition, then, seemingly recognizing something in me, he asked, “Are you an Olive Guy?”

As it happens, I am an olive guy.

“Yeah,” I said, trying to keep it cool, “I’m an Olive Guy.”

He looked briefly to each side, as if he might be overheard, then reached into the case and tapped a bin of small black olives. His voice dropped to just above a whisper.

“These, My Friend,” he confided in me, “these are the ’68 Barracuda of Olives.” He looked at me for my reaction.

I looked at the olives critically — I mean, it was already a foregone conclusion that I was going to buy the olives, but I didn’t want to look too easy. They were very small, about the size of black jelly beans, but darker. Much darker. The air around them almost shimmered as it was tugged at by their blackness.

“Yeah,” I said after a few seconds, “Gimme half a pound, please.”

My new friend didn’t move. He stood there, watching me impassively.

“Um, and another half a pound in another container,” I added.

He nodded very slightly with approval, and got me my olives.

They were extremely good olives.

’68 Barracuda

At this point, after that very olive-centric story, you could be excused for expecting an olive-based cocktail. And indeed there is a lot to be said for, and about, dirty martinis, the gold standard — the ’68 Barracuda, if you will — of olive-based cocktails, but that is a study for another time. No, this time, we’re going to go in the other direction — the Barracuda.

A Barracuda is a standard if not terribly well-known cocktail — very fruit-forward, and in spite of its name a fairly innocuous drink. Yes, it has a fairly lengthy list of ingredients, but it is a pleasant if not terribly memorable cocktail.

This is a tweak on the original.

Ingredients

  • ice
  • ⅔ ounce Galliano, an Italian, vanilla-forward liqueur, in a freakishly beautiful bottle
  • ⅓ ounce grenadine
  • 1 small Fresno pepper
  • ⅔ ounce white rum
  • ⅓ ounce fresh-squeezed lime juice
  • ⅔ ounce pineapple juice
  • sparkling wine — I used Cava.

Slice the pepper into a shaker, and muddle it thoroughly.

Add an ounce or so of white rum to the shaker, then “dry shake” it. This means to shake it without ice. (The capsaicin — the spicy compounds — of the pepper are alcohol-soluble, which means that the straight rum will extract them pretty well. They are not water-soluble, so the juices or ice would interfere with the process.)

Add everything but the sparkling wine to an ice-filled rocks glass, then top with the wine.

It’s up to you whether to stir, or not to stir.

The juices and grenadine give a dependable Tiki-like background flavor to a standard Barracuda. Regular white rum is happy to hide in the background, wrapped in a comfortable vanilla blanket of Galliano. The star of this show, singing out proudly like it’s ’80s Night at a Tiki karaoke, is the Fresno chile.

Why Fresno?

I’m glad you asked. For years my go-to chile has been a classic jalapeño. It’s got a great flavor. It’s hot, but not too hot. It’s been great.

But sadly, in recent years it’s let itself go. Eighty percent of the time it has no heat and even less flavor; it’s usually in lawn-clippings territory. The other 20 percent of the time it’s as if it’s sobered up and tries to make up for lost time, and blows the top of your head off. Fresnos are more dependable.

And, not for nothin’, they’re red, which suits this drink better anyway.

Featured photo: ’68 Barracuda. Photo by John Fladd.

What goes with football?

Pairing wines with NFL playoff chicken wings

It is the NFL playoff season and time to have those football-centered house parties. The mainstay of those parties is, of course, chicken wings! Deep-fried chicken wings have southern roots, but coating the wings in a spicy butter-based sauce reportedly has its roots in Buffalo, New York, the home of the Bills, who just halted the New England Patriots in their pursuit of advancing in the playoffs. Recipes for preparing those cherished wings can vary from a lemony-pepper sauce to a Sriracha-based sauce to a myriad of mustard- or vinegar-based sauces with varying amounts of sweetness and spice.

It goes without saying that beer certainly has a place at the table with all those wings, sour cream and celery, but there are several types of wine that can also be seated next to those revered wings, and we will explore a few of them. When considering which wine to serve, there should be a balance between the buttery sauce coating those wings and a slightly acidic wine that refreshes the palate.

Our first wine, the 2017 Château de Fesles Anjou Chenin Sec (originally priced at $59.99, and reduced to $21.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets), comes from the Anjou region of the Loire River Valley of France. The color of this chenin blanc is straw that somehow has a sparkle even though it is a still wine. It has a floral nose of citric blossoms that transform to the palate with dried fruit, honey and toasted bread. This slightly citric wine will clean the tongue of the rich, complex, sweet and spicy notes of those wings.

Our second wine, the 2017 La Grand Comtadine Premières Vendanges Vacqueyras (originally priced at $64.99, and reduced to $22.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets), is a classic Mediterranean Southern Rhone red wine. Produced as a blend of 50 percent grenache, 40 percent shiraz/syrah and 10 percent mourvedre, it offers texture and complexity with ripe fruit that works nicely with the warm, red sauces coating the wings. The color is a deep red with a nose of dried plums. To the tongue, the fruit recedes with good, strong tannins of leather. This is a wine with body that will complement those wings.

Our third wine, the 2020 Vigne Regali Rosa Regale Brachetto D’Acqui Sparkling Red Wine by Banfi (originally priced at $19.99, and reduced to $14.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets), is an interesting study of pairing the slight sweetness of this wine to a tomato, mustard, vinegar-based sauce. Castello Banfi is a family-owned vineyard estate and winery located in the Brunello region of Tuscany. Fermentation of 100 percent brachetto grapes takes place in temperature-controlled stainless-steel vats, with bottling immediately afterward. This careful attention to time and temperature results in its slight effervescence and a rich garnet color. To the nose it is full of raspberries and strawberries. To the tongue there is a slight delicate softness that settles to a clean, dry finish. While this wine is frequently paired to desserts, it holds up well to barbecue-style wings.

Our fourth wine, Comte de Saint Aignan Crémant de Loire Brut Première Étoile (originally priced at $28.99, reduced to $14.99 at the New Hampshire Liquor & Wine Outlets), is a blend of 60 percent chenin blanc, 35 percent chardonnay and 5 percent cabernet franc). The grapes for this sparkling wine come from the Crémant-de-Loire appellation of the Loire River Valley in central France, producing a color that is light gold (almost clear) with persistent but sparse bubbles. The nose is slightly nutty with notes of dark honey. To the mouth there are bold citric notes that will complement the freshness of a lemon-pepper sauce on your wings.

So, in settling in to watch your next almost favorite team roll through the playoff brackets, consider these alternatives to beer in pairing with those ubiquitous chicken wings.

Featured photo: Courtesy photo.

Banana whoopie pies

Remember all that healthy eating I wrote about a couple weeks ago? Toss it out the window! I know, healthy eating is important, but so is an occasional dessert!

While chocolate may come to mind when you think of whoopie pies, these banana whoopie pies may just become your go-to version after you make a batch. Much like a typical whoopie pie, they are built around two tender, moist cakes filled with frosting. What makes these extra special are two things. One, they are filled with cream cheese frosting, which helps to balance the sweetness. Second, there is a small layer of walnuts or pecans that adds a nice bit of crunch.

This recipe is about as straightforward as a dessert recipe can be. There are no important ingredient or cooking notes. Just make a batch, and enjoy!

Banana whoopie pies
Makes 12

Cakes
½ cup unsalted butter, softened
½ cup light brown sugar
¼ cup granulated sugar
1 egg
1½ cups mashed banana, about 3
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
¾ teaspoon salt
2 cups all-purpose flour

Filling
4 ounces cream cheese, softened
¼ cup unsalted butter, softened
1¾ cups powdered sugar
1 Tablespoon whole milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
½ cup maple glazed walnut or pecans, chopped (optional)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.
Place butter and both sugars in the bowl of a stand mixer, and beat with paddle attachment on speed 2 until smooth.
Add egg, mixing until fully incorporated on speed 2.
Add banana, vanilla, cinnamon, baking powder, baking soda and salt, mixing well on speed 2.
Use a spatula to scrape down the sides, and mix again.
Add flour, mixing on low; scrape sides with spatula and mix until fully blended.
Scoop approximately 1½ tablespoons batter, spaced evenly, onto the prepared baking sheet.
Bake for about 15 to 20 minutes, or until cakes spring back when touched.
Allow to cool for 2 minutes on baking sheet.
Transfer to a baking rack to cool completely.
To assemble:
In a stand mixer cream together the cream cheese and butter on speed 2 for about 4 minutes.
Add powdered sugar, milk and vanilla; mix on low speed until combined.
Spread the flat side of 12 cakes with the cream cheese frosting.
If using the pecan or walnuts, sprinkle a tablespoon on top of the frosting.
Top each with another cake.

Photo: Banana whoopie pies. Photo by Michele Pesula Kuegler

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