I’m not from Baltimore, so quite frankly, the term ‘Berger Cookies’ has little meaning to me and does not further sell me on the item (however, an accomplice who also ate this pie and grew up near Baltimore felt great joy about the presence of these cookies). I’m embarrassed to admit I consider myself a dessert fan, and initially thought a ‘chess’ filling was a typo for ‘cheese’. Lest you are in the same boat I was in, I’d hate for you to think I made a typo as well, so I’ll clear this up: chess filling is real and a term used to describe the filling of butter, eggs, sugar, and other variations (consider yourself newly informed). Regardless, I interpreted the above description as “dessert I most likely will enjoy” due to the fact that it is a pie containing cookies, resulting in two desserts in one. No complaints about that. Upon placing the first forkful of pie in my watering mouth, my senses were enveloped in a smooth, velvety texture releasing a sweet cream flavor with bursts of chocolate.
The truly unique aspect of this pie is the texture. Usually I’m a taste-oriented eater, and while this was also a strong suit, the texture was the more overpowering feature. I researched how these pies were made (to understand the definition of chess), and learned that the Berger cookies are all heated together with the other ingredients to form the filling. Something about these cookies shedding their own original agenda and being melted together as one, rich oozing custard being, really spoke to me. Individually each cookie is a duck, but together, they form a V flying in perfect formation. Gordon Bombay would be proud.
Would I call this Baltimore Bomb “The Best Thing I Ever Ate” or the “ultimate of decadence”? Not quite. Would I say it danced on my tastebuds enough to get me to return for an alternate pie slice out of curiosity? Yes. Would I say I enjoyed each bite and was sad when it was over? Yes. Was I ultimately satisfied? Yes. Did I care enough to write a blog about it? Guilty.
