Fried Oreos, to me, represent the pinnacle of American achievement. The cultural infrastructure required to support this exotic weaponization of food stretches far and wide and confesses the nature of our collective spirit: forget heart attacks and malfunctioning internal organs; the only real death to worry about in the Land of the Free is a life without stimulants.
I tried it. No surprise; it was an Oreo-flavored doughnut. Like all powerful and memorable experiences, it changed me. I used to suspect a disastrous future for we Americans. After a few crunchy chews, I became certain we are doomed. Thank you, 2009 82nd Annual Feast of San Gennaro.