A few weeks back, I had written about how a group of my friends were making each other laugh by discussing what someone coined "essence of beaver bottom." The basic gist was that some natural flavoring was supposedly made from some sort of gland extractions from the posterior of a beaver. The general consensus was that whether this was true or not, none of us ever wanted to consume such a food flavoring. Ever.
Another friend, when hearing this story, claimed she uses "essence of beaver bottom" in all of her cooking. Naturally, this led to my somewhat pathetic attempts at teasing her about every single food being baked or cooked having to have that quite disturbing ingredient in it.
Tonight, I ran into her at our local library. (This was not unexpected, since she works there. And no, a car was not involved. Give me some credit here.) I had planned ahead and had boxed up some of my holiday baking, which involved a few dozen cookies. I placed that box inside a bag, which I handed to her with the words, "essence of beaver bottom."
For the record, and to the best of my knowledge, that particular ingredient was not used in my baking this year, nor has it ever been. I even threw the recipes for the cookies into the bag so that she could see exactly what went into those goodies. Heck, I even specified what brand of shortening and what type of chocolate chips were used. I wanted to make sure anyone consuming the finished product would know exactly what went into their creation.
Still, the look of panic on her face as she asked me if I really did use that particular natural flavoring was priceless. I'm still smirking when I think about it over an hour later.
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