Biscoff Fluffernutter, A Whole Other Level of Fluffernutterness!

With Sweet & Sara marshmallows leftover in the fridge, I fully expected there to be a fluffernutter or a chocolate chip fluffernutter in my future.  But when I spied this Biscoff spread in the store, I had an epiphany: Biscoff fluffernutter!

If you're not yet familiar, Biscoff are accidentally vegan cookies with a cinnamonny, brown sugary, shortbready taste that is hard to describe, but easy to eat by the sleeve-full.  They can be found worldwide under the names Biscoff and Spekuloos, but can be quite elusive in the U.S.. 

You'll recall that I originally used the coveted spread in my spectacular Mother's day crepes to rave reviews, that jar "Spekuloos spread" from Wafels & Dinges.  Sure, this spread is more fancy and decadent than peanut butter, but why should that prevent me from toasting it up with some marshies?  It shouldn't.  It didn't.

I started out with standard wheat bread, then was interrupted.

At the last minute, VM got wind of the impending fluffernutter and decided she wanted one too.  I worried that the Biscoff fluffernutter might prove too sweet for her, so I made one traditional fluffernutter, one Biscoff- with the intention of going halvsies.  Since Biscoff spread is significantly more expensive richer and sweeter than peanut butter, I considered going a little lighter on the layer- then decided against it. Go big or go home.

^ crunchy PB                     Biscoff spread ^

The marshie procedure was the same as usual: I fit as many as I could onto each slice.

For those of you new to the fluffernutter, the rules are simple:

• Toast first slice of bread, let cool completely before applying butter.  I like to let it cool standing up so the plate doesn't get all sweaty.

• Toast second slice of bread with an even layer of marshmallows.  This side is done when the marshmallows have started to brown; do not wait until you notice smoke emanating from the toaster oven.  
 

 

• Combine.

If it's hot where you are and you don't do so already, I'd recommend refrigerating your peanut butter and Biscoff spread prior to sandwich assembly.  This will prevent the toasted marshmallows from melting your butters- slightly, in the case of the peanut butter; obnoxiously, in the case of the Biscoff.  I cannot stress enough- even if you think you have let your toasted marshies cool, they will melt your butter.  Science, people! (?)

As you can see, the ooze of the Biscoff was almost immediate and most unruly.

By the time I sat down to eat it had completely dripped out of my sandwich!  No matter, a spoon did the trick and the sandwich was AMAZING.  Seriously, it made the peanut butter seemed downright drab in comparison.  Don't get me wrong- I'm not saying the Biscoff fluffernutter was better than the peanut butter version.  But the latter loses something when they're served together; I'd recommend them for different occasions. 

Go forth and fluffernutter.

Vegan Fluffernutter: The Chocolate Chip Edition

You'll remember the original fluffernutter and the after-the-fact s'mores epiphany.  Well, I could not let the matter rest.  So, dear readers, I give you the vegan fluffernutter: chocolate chip edition.

As with the original fluffernutter, this sandwich was a thing of beauty.  I used all of the same variables: Sweet & Sara marshmallows, Dave's Killer Bread, etc., with the sole addition of chocolate chips.  There was a moment when I considered that essentially eating chocolate on bread was weird, but it was fleeting.

The fluffernutter itself was epic; this was on another planet.  I can't say for certain that it was better, just another level of decadence with the exponential bonus of a third, sweet layer.  Truth be told, the sandwich almost did me in, folks (who said that?).  At one point I paused to take a walk.  Granted it was just around the room, but still; I normally remain seated for my entire meal.

Maybe my mind will change when my entire body isn't tingling from the calorie overload, but I suggest you work your way up slowly from the classic fluffernutter to the CCE; it's not a small step.  Those chips may be small, but they are mighty powerful.

Behold the Vegan Fluffernutter

With a fridge-full of Sweet and Sara vanilla marshmallows anxiously awaiting an adventure, I decided to attempt a fluffernutter.

Sadly, I grew up in a house without marshmallow fluff.  My mother (nee, vegetarian Mom) grew up with it as a staple in her family's fridge and she "never liked the thought of it": dismissing it without ever having tried it.  By the time I was old enough to buy a jar myself I had already figured out that it probably wasn't animal friendly.  Fast forward decades and here I was, about to embark on my first fluffernutter.

After I'd gathered all of the ingredients it occurred to me that I might not really like the peanut butter and marshmallow combo; just because you like things separate doesn't always mean you'll like them together.  So, I conducted a very serious taste test in which a humongoid glob of peanut butter topped a marshie like a cowboy hat.  The results were happily delicious inconclusive.

The second taste test involved a significantly more punk peanut butter cap, and thankfully confirmed that the combo was legit.

Then I begin to wonder if the addition of the bread was going to be the wild card that would ruin the whole thing.  Since I didn't want to waste a sandwich-full of marshies, I created a mini-fluffernutter prototype.  Thumbs up.

By this point it had been sufficiently established that the wonder of the peanut butter/marshmallow combo was incorruptible, so I had some fun making a Double Down inspired fluffernutter: sandwiching a marshie bit between peanut halves.

And then it was time to be serious and start assembling the sandwich.  I toasted one slice of Dave's Killer bread, allowed it to cool, and applied a ridiculously thick layer of peanut butter. 

Then I carefully assembled my marshmallows atop the second piece of bread so that every bite would be sufficiently mallow-fied.  Please note that they are oddly shaped because they are the discounted marshmallows that are intended for use in (presumably more high-brow) recipes.

Finally, it was time to toast the marshmallow half of the sandwich: s'mores style (don't ask me WHY it didn't occur to me to add chocolate chips until now).

My friend peanut-butter-sandwich-half and I watched as the marshies became visibly toasty.

A vision: open-faced fluffernutter, pre-assembly (yes, that's extra PB for dipping on the side). 

Assembled side-view.  While the marshies retained their shape, they were nice and melty.

 Interior.

Mid-munch:

In conclusion, the fluffernutter was stupendous and definitely worth the wait.  For any of you wary of the combo, I can tell you that a mouthful of the medley becomes much more than just a sum of it's parts.  The reason it is called a fluffernutter and not simply a peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich is because, when the ingredients are combined, it truly becomes something else entirely.  Each bite of the sandwich has the similar thrill of a chocolate-covered pretzel: something delicious and salty enhanced by additional, yummy sweetness.  Definitely the kind of thing that you are going to want a lot of: often.

Bonus
The previous fluff eschewer (aka V.M.) vehemently resisted... and then ultimately LOVED the sandwich as well.  You can learn a lot from your kid.