Off-Topic: Ghetto Frosting

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I truly believe that after you have been a vegan for a while, and when I say a while, I mean at least a year not, say for example a fucking week, you start to notice the effects processed foods have on you. That is, if you’re so inclined to take a nibble of something from your non-vegan past.  Yesterday afternoon we had a farewell party for an executive. A football field sized cake was ordered and set up in the conference room.  Due to the fact everyone I work with knows I used to be a pastry cook, questions ensued about the frosting.  I told my colleagues, judging by the looks of it, it is probably ghetto frosting.

Ghetto Frosting?

Yes. You see, *ghetto frosting* is a term I learned from a pastry chef I had worked for.  All of her cakes were a work of art and it would have been complete sacrilege to frost her creations in anything other than butter cream or that nasty shit, otherwise known as fondant.  This particular chef only worked with either of those two mediums.  When I told her I hated butter cream frosting (because I hate the taste of raw butter) she looked at me with the side of her eye and said, “Oh, you’re one of those… You must like ‘ghetto frosting’.” Wiping the water from behind my ears (i.e. still a freshman in the pastry trade) I said, “Ghetto frosting????” [Tilting my head to one side].  She said, “You know, Crisco and sugar?…”  My face lit up.  I smiled and said, “YES!!!!! I love the ghetto frosting. Mmmmmmmm!” I believe, at that moment, the earth shifted under my feet and going forward from that day on, the chef forever looked at me with a certain level of disdain.  I’m sure she thought of me as white trash.

Most of my immediate co-workers are familiar with the term ghetto frosting because they have worked alongside me for the past 2 years, at least in this department anyway.  However, every now and then I will meet someone in the office who has never heard me use that term. Due to the number of attendees at this particular party, the room was rife with unfamiliar faces.  Without preamble, I began to explain what *ghetto frosting* means (fucking noobs).

As with any gathering, there is always one or two people in the presence of your greatness who will challenge anything you say, despite the fact you have REAL PROFESSIONAL FUCKING EXPERIENCE.  One woman exclaimed, “Nooooooooooo, you’re wrong, this is butter cream.”  I shook my head and said, “No, it isn’t.”  Another said, “I bake all the time this is definitely butter cream.”  Meanwhile, my devoted disciples were cheering from my corner saying, “Susan would know… if she says it’s ghetto frosting, it’s ghetto frosting!”  Now, don’t think for a second that proclamations such as these will deter the Little Miss Know-It-All in your presence.  You know the type I speak of. They preach from their armchair of life taking an all-knowing stance about everything.


Irritated I walked over to the cake, picked up the fork and proceeded to scrape a 2 inch thick gob of frosting off of the cake (including a rose) and shoved the entire contents into my mouth until my cheeks were bursting like Alvin the chipmunk.  I turned to the naysayers, swallowed the artery clogging confection, licked my lips and said, “Yep, it’s fucking ghetto frosting, as I suspected.”  And walked out of the conference room shaking my head.  Now keep in mind I am a vegan and have been for the past 2 years so eating stuff like this isn’t part of my daily repertoire.    About 10 or so minutes later, while sitting at my desk, I began to break into a cold sweat.  I felt jittery. My eyes were starting to go in and out of focus and my heart raced… at that moment I blurted out (to no one in particular), “Ummmmmmmm, I don’t feel so well.”  My co-worker who sits in front of me said, “It’s no wonder, you did just eat an entire forkful of ghetto frosting.”  I said, “I know!  Who knew it would have such an effect on me. I mean, holy shit I think I’m about to die.  Listen, if I drop dead tell the paramedics what I ate would you please?”

What was in that ghetto frosting anyway?…


35 thoughts on “Off-Topic: Ghetto Frosting

  1. OMG, know-it-alls…I work with a guy like that, I totally understand. Does she one-up people too, like if you tell her a story about rescuing five orphan children from a fire, she comes back with a story about rescuing thirty from a raging wildfire caused by a meteor strike while in a tornado? Ours does that.

    And I’d wondered if processed food might have an effect like that, but it’s so omnipresent that you don’t really notice it until it’s gone. Ghetto frosting is a great term for it too; I knew exactly what it was just from the name, before you described it, lol. And I’ve never baked in my life. Hope the feeling passed quickly. Makes me want to take a harder look at what I’m eating, for sure.

    • Yep, she’s a one-upper — always had better stories! Ha-Ha!

      I felt pretty sick for most of the evening — it wasn’t a smart move on my part, that’s for sure. I just subscribed to a group of bloggers who have been discussing the evils of sugar. I’ve always known sugar is bad but now I’m learning just how bad the effects are on the human mind, including the brain!

      Anyway, thanks for commenting — nice to see you back in the Blogosphere. 🙂

  2. Ghetto Frosting – who knew? I have heard that once you eliminate even one processed food that after a time there is no going back. Yesterday, I was listening to a radio talk show where the woman has been eating raw for 30 years. Her son (also raw) decided he wanted to try a hot dog. She said he was sick for a week! Amazing how our bodies talk to us! If we would only listen more often. The last sentence was for my own benefit. 🙂

    • 🙂

      Unfortunately, in our society, with our hectic schedules it is almost impossible to not eat something process. Heck, even I am fallible. Especially if I have to work late, I’m out of snacks and the only thing I can find at South Station that is vegan is a hot pretzel. Hunger will drive me to succumb. It is what it is.

      I find a raw diet very challenging. I live on the East Coast — during the winter months, I want warm. I want hot and I want comfort. If I have a choice between something raw or semi-cooked versus a hot bowl of my vegan lentil soup — honey, I’m going for the soup every time. 🙂

      • I’m with you on the hot soup, girlfriend! This body will never entertain raw. It’s seems much too extreme. This woman did admit she takes mega vitamins to supplement her raw diet. She also revealed during the interview that her husband eats meat and is a smoker. Scratching my head. 🙂

      • I laughed out loud over your last sentence for sure. Is she kidding? How could she possibly live with this man? Unless maybe she’s encouraging him to eat and smoke so he’ll die young and she’ll get the life insurance policy.

  3. Pingback: Why Every Girl Needs A MGBF (that’s Male Gay Best Friend to You!) | Girl for Animal Liberation

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