Yes. I love you. Parent company, I love you so much, but I have to confess that I found myself wandering late last night. I know you’re always open, I know you’re there for me. I drove down the road and made the turn, intending to just drive by, see what was going on. But the air conditioning and dollar bins beckoned me. Truly, I don’t know how it happened, but when I woke up, I was sprawled across one of those red concrete balls, snoring like a bulldog. In my hand was a frozen carton of bread pudding from B Sweet and a fresh bullseye tattoo smarted across my bicep. Oh god. A Target exclusive. What have I done?
B Sweet’s Cookies & Cream Bread Pudding features neither bread, pudding, nor cookies and cream, as far as I’m concerned. Not a great start. This is such an awkward dessert- clearly meant for only either families of four or singles with no hope or OkCupid profiles. Its difficult size and inability to refreeze demands it be eaten in one sitting or discarded. This would pair best with both Sex and the City films, or if you insist, a ripped version of Divergent, and the latest Sophie Kinsella vintage. It is wholly monolithic in every single respect- it resembles oatmeal before mixing, and the ‘cookies and cream’ element seems to be inspired rather than introduced, utilizing chocolate cake and vanilla cake rather than crunchy pieces of cooking.
The ratio of liquid to solid pieces is out of balance, and as a result, the bites dissolve the moment they hit the tongue, like cotton candy with saturated fat and a food truck to its name. While the pudding is technically made with pieces of cupcakes rather than bread, the pieces beg either to be made with firmer cake pieces or less cream so as to avoid the inevitable soppiness that ensues. The company utilizes a variety of items as the base for their bread pudding- doughnut pieces, waffles, brownies, and cookies. Perhaps something with a yeastier base would hold up to the onslaught of cream. While I’m not catty or exaggerated enough to claim this is essentially a $5 bag of sugar, (ahem, date sugar!) the proof is in the pudding, with a few cakey embellishments and an oily slick of icing dripping down the sides. And no, it’s not just happy to see you.
The kindest thing I can say is that this is nostalgic in a way that brings to mind large catering pans at university buffets. Bread pudding, it is not. Novel, certainly. It will appeal to a specific demographic and thrive, but here, it does not pass.