We had the missionaries over last night for dinner. Here was the Roasted Chicken before it went into the oven.
Dessert - Before.
After - well, not quite. The recipe stops here, but my friend Melissa always goes one step further.
The tub of Cool Whip. Still not After enough though, until . . .
The chocolate sauce is drizzled on the top. Now it's After. The only problem with this pie is the fact that it is like a drug. It is extremely rich and if you eat too big of a piece, there's a serious stomach ache to follow - but, we can't stop. Ok, I can't stop. Can't stop thinking about it, can't stop eating it. Seriously - crack cocaine in a pie dish. Help me, I'm can't afford rehab.