Chocolate Cake

Call it a confectionary controversy, a dessert dilemma, a sweet-treat sacrilege. The good people of Maine are trying to claim whoopie pies as their own, with statehouse legislation pending to make it the "state treat. " Only, they're not from Maine, declared Joel Cliff, a spokesman for the Pennsylvania Dutch Convention and Visitors Bureau. They're from Lancaster County. "The whoopie pie originates from here, from the Amish culture," he said. "We're very comfortable with our position on it. " The controversy has garnered national and international news coverage.

A passion for chocolate crosses all ages, cultures and diets. The Mexican Aztecs revered it in frothy hot cocoa; the Dutch and Viennese refined it in decadent cakes; American kids (and grown-ups, too) love it straight out of the chocolate-bits bag. We have developed cupcakes that can supply that quick chocolate fix with a cold glass of milk after school, a luxurious cake to savor leisurely with a cup of tea, and a low-fat variation that won't decimate your diet. The conventional oven has been called upon to bake the Chocolate Cake while the microwave produces the Chocolate Cream Glaze that covers it. Not only does chocolate melt faster in the microwave, but it has a better chance of staying smooth.

Chef John Hilburt looked down on his creations lined up in a neat row on a table in the main kitchen of the Elwyn Institute. The dishes ran the gamut - spaghetti with a crown of three meatballs; a hunk of frosted chocolate cake; a hoagie with neat layers of meat, cheese and lettuce, and a hearty platter of Salisbury steak and gravy with mashed potatoes, peas and carrots. While the food looked delicious, it was the taste test that proved to be the big surprise. For these foods were made entirely of pureed ingredients.

If your idea of an ice cream sandwich involves a gooey wrapper and sticky fingers, you probably haven't ordered dessert at Jones, the trendy comfort food restaurant at 7th and Chestnut streets. Pastry chef Sonjia Spector makes fancified versions of the ice cream-truck favorite. The sandwiches are so delish, you don't even mind eating them with a fork. Though Jones uses its own homemade chocolate chip ice cream, cooks can substitute their own versions at home. JONES' ICE CREAM SANDWICH 1 gallon store-bought or homemade ice cream For the chocolate cake: 4 1/2 ounces quality bittersweet chocolate 3 eggs, separated 2 1/4 ounces butter 2 1/4 ounces sugar For the cake: melt butter with chocolate over simmering water.

What do Tibetan yaks, pig races, chocolate cake, smelly sneakers and a balloon-blowing goat have in common? They're all part of the Pennsylvania Fair, which opens Thursday at Philadelphia Park Race Track in Bensalem. The yaks are among the exotic animals to be exhibited at a children's petting zoo. The porkers will return in races for Oreo cookies. Chocolate cake will be featured in a bake-off. The sneakers will be judged on their odorous qualities in a kids' Smelly Sneaker Contest.

I know I've written about my feet before, but changes are afoot. Sorry. To begin, my feet barely look human anymore. My soles have thickened to an elephant's hide, and my toenails have turned to horn, curved and yellowing. I don't have feet, I have hooves. Bottom line, I'm becoming a centaur. Or maybe a Minotaur. Either way, I'm not getting remarried anytime soon. Unless Thing Three is the Old Spice guy. To top it off, my amazing disappearing little toenail is now long gone.

INQUIRER STAFF WRITER Susan Sykes Gildin, 49, of Horsham, an office manager who battled colon cancer for eight years, died March 16 at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital. Mrs. Gildin was one of the patients profiled March 11 in an Inquirer article about the anxiety of living with cancer. Since her Stage 4 cancer was diagnosed in 2001, she had undergone 19 surgical procedures, chemotherapy treatment every other week for six years, and CAT and PET scans every four to six months.

President Clinton and his family celebrated Christmas in the White House yesterday, with the President giving his wife a book that takes a nostalgic look at baseball, a spokesman said yesterday. Hillary Rodham Clinton, a longtime Chicago Cubs fan, received the gift of Mudville Diaries, a book of baseball memories collected by Mike Schacht, said the spokesman, Josh Silverman. Details of other gifts were not immediately available so as not to intrude on the Clintons' privacy, Silverman said.

Drumthwacket was quiet and dark as the governor crept to the kitchen in his bathrobe and slippers. He opened the refrigerator door, flooding the room with harsh light. Inside was the prize - a thick slice of chocolate cake, with chocolate icing, on a plate. The governor reached for the cake. "Governor, I wouldn't eat that cake if I were you," warned a voice from the kitchen's dark recesses. "Who's there?" the governor demanded. "It's me," the stranger replied, stepping forward.

Chocolate cake may be the obvious choice for a Valentine's Day celebration, but ice cream is so much sexier. Put a slice of chocolate cake on a plate and lovers discreetly nibble it. But just notice what happens when you set out a carton of ice cream: Two spoons dive in, uniting, tangling and scooping up rich, creamy ice cream in unison. It's a shared experience, without the crumbs. With that in mind, here's a very romantic and delicious recipe for ice cream. As a shortcut to this sensuous dessert, prepare the coffee beans and pecans and fold them into a softened pint of good-quality, store-bought ice cream.

I know I've written about my feet before, but changes are afoot. Sorry. To begin, my feet barely look human anymore. My soles have thickened to an elephant's hide, and my toenails have turned to horn, curved and yellowing. I don't have feet, I have hooves. Bottom line, I'm becoming a centaur. Or maybe a Minotaur. Either way, I'm not getting remarried anytime soon. Unless Thing Three is the Old Spice guy. To top it off, my amazing disappearing little toenail is now long gone.

I feel sorry for these men who are taking cellphone pictures of their privates and e-mailing them to women. Say cheesy. Some of these guys are taking the photos in their underwear, and some go commando, showing their sheaths unsheathed. Yikes. It started with a quarterback and spread to a politician, and now I'm kicking myself. If I had said something earlier, all of this foolishness could have been prevented. Faces could have been saved. Not to mention, well, you know what else.

Call it a confectionary controversy, a dessert dilemma, a sweet-treat sacrilege. The good people of Maine are trying to claim whoopie pies as their own, with statehouse legislation pending to make it the "state treat. " Only, they're not from Maine, declared Joel Cliff, a spokesman for the Pennsylvania Dutch Convention and Visitors Bureau. They're from Lancaster County. "The whoopie pie originates from here, from the Amish culture," he said. "We're very comfortable with our position on it. " The controversy has garnered national and international news coverage.

I'm having a change of life, but I'm not sure it's the one you're thinking of. I'm incorporating. Yes, I'm becoming a corporation, and I'm not even on flaxseed. Long story short, after writing almost 20 books in about 20 years, it's time for me to become a company. It was a lawyer who told me this, and the reason was to protect me from other lawyers. Which sounds like Ted Bundy warning you to stay away from Jeffrey Dahmer. The lawyer convinced me that incorporating was a good idea by saying the words lawsuit and exposure , which scared me. I never want to be exposed.

When the clouds parted early yesterday, praise resounded from the white-clad choir at Bright Hope Baptist Church in North Philadelphia. Henri David reigned over a promenade of tots in frills and polka dots at Headhouse Square. Children sprinkled glitter on confetti-filled eggs at a newly opened art gallery. Termini's Bakery in South Philadelphia sold every last bunny-shaped pound cake. And as night drew near, ghouls began to gather on South Street for the third annual Philly Zombie Crawl.

INQUIRER STAFF WRITER Susan Sykes Gildin, 49, of Horsham, an office manager who battled colon cancer for eight years, died March 16 at Thomas Jefferson University Hospital. Mrs. Gildin was one of the patients profiled March 11 in an Inquirer article about the anxiety of living with cancer. Since her Stage 4 cancer was diagnosed in 2001, she had undergone 19 surgical procedures, chemotherapy treatment every other week for six years, and CAT and PET scans every four to six months.

Sunday, Dec. 2 Latkepalooza , a celebration of Hanukkah and the potato pancake, featuring a wide array of latkes prepared by chefs from local restaurants, including Marigold Kitchen, Estia, Old Original Bookbinder's, Jones and more. $15 adults; $10 ages 6-12; Free for children under 6. 2-4 p.m. at the Gershman Y, 401 S. Broad St. For tickets and more information, call 215-446-3021 or visit www.gershmanY.org . Plan now Dec. 6: Veuve Clicquot Champagne dinner , featuring a menu of New American cuisine prepared by chef Michael DiBianca and six vintages of Veuve Clicquot Champagne.

Drumthwacket was quiet and dark as the governor crept to the kitchen in his bathrobe and slippers. He opened the refrigerator door, flooding the room with harsh light. Inside was the prize - a thick slice of chocolate cake, with chocolate icing, on a plate. The governor reached for the cake. "Governor, I wouldn't eat that cake if I were you," warned a voice from the kitchen's dark recesses. "Who's there?" the governor demanded. "It's me," the stranger replied, stepping forward.

If your idea of an ice cream sandwich involves a gooey wrapper and sticky fingers, you probably haven't ordered dessert at Jones, the trendy comfort food restaurant at 7th and Chestnut streets. Pastry chef Sonjia Spector makes fancified versions of the ice cream-truck favorite. The sandwiches are so delish, you don't even mind eating them with a fork. Though Jones uses its own homemade chocolate chip ice cream, cooks can substitute their own versions at home. JONES' ICE CREAM SANDWICH 1 gallon store-bought or homemade ice cream For the chocolate cake: 4 1/2 ounces quality bittersweet chocolate 3 eggs, separated 2 1/4 ounces butter 2 1/4 ounces sugar For the cake: melt butter with chocolate over simmering water.

Denise Williams figured she was doing the right thing when she canceled an appointment with her Center City dentist. After all, President Clinton and friends were coming to town yesterday, and they'd jam up traffic. She was right about that. Streets were closed around the Marriott Hotel, at 12th and Filbert Streets, where he addressed a meeting of the American Association for the Advancement of Science. Williams was feeling pretty good about the whole thing until about 2 p.m., when she walked down 52d Street toward Spruce and smacked right into a presidential pig-out at Big George's Stop 'N Dine Cafeteria Southern Style Cooking.