We Are the Muffin Top People

At my office, we have a great alternative to 1,000 people each occasionally sending "that really funny link I found" to everyone else who works there. It's a list-serve you opt-in to, and you can auto-filter the messages into a folder. So when you need a break from the monotony that you get paid for, you can wander through your Work Spam folder to see what inane things people are chattering about while they, too, are getting paid for not working.

Today's topic of interest: Baking Edges

I have guiltlessly consumed way beyond my fair share of baked goods ever since I acquired myself a fetus. (It's the easy out for anyone looking to over-indulge, in case you've been looking for a way.) And so the concept of the Baking Edge drew my attention.

There are, you should note, Edge People and Middle People. It's best to hook-up with your opposite: When my husband bakes a pan of brownies, I go for the crunchy, chocolatey edges, while he devours the soft middley goodness. It's why we got married and can stay that way.

Now, it seems, there's a pan designed to eliminate my husband from the equation.
The Baker's Edge pan, which makes every piece an edge piece...on at least two sides.

I can't wait to get one of these so Kevin can bake brownies for Lyric onday. I'm actually half hoping she will take after her daddy and be a Middle Person, turning up her tiny button nose (I'm hoping she gets his nose, too) and leaving those icky edge pieces for Mum.

Some people at work were not only nonplussed by the Edge concept, they were confused why anyone might want one. "Who among you," someone asked, "would want the edges?"

"Are you the people who eat the crusts cut off a PB&J sandwich?" asked another.

And one of my brethen replied for us all:

"We," he said, "are the muffin top people."

Yes, yes we are. And so that pan is an Edge Person's dream. But I'm not so sure it will be fair to my husband, a middle-man.