Yes, we’ve been eating a lot of pie at Hill Country Chicken this week. All in the name of research, of course. The pie pictured above was our favorite of the three we tried, and also the most lethal. It’s called the Cowboy Pie, and is basically a Magic Bar crammed into a crust.
The top, as you can see, is a crazy-quilt of butterscotch chips, chocolate chips, shredded coconut, and goo. And so is the middle and bottom, right down to the crunchy graham-cracker crust. It is, in other words, a big wad of everything your dentist and Susan Powter, that crazy lady from the ’80s, tell you in no uncertain terms not to eat, ever. And it is delicious: It will lift your spirits even as it rots your teeth. Your glycemic index has no prayer against this thing, so just surrender and plan on using all of those gloriously empty calories to sprint back to your office, home, or even Vermont after leaving the restaurant. We ran-walked 20 blocks after consuming the pie, and could have gone 20 more without feeling a thing.
This Cowboy pie is also notable for another reason: It is the first time we have ever had to buy a toothbrush and toothpaste after eating something for Fat Pants Friday. For that reason alone, it rates a pair of sweatpants on the Fat Pants Scale. Don’t let the small size fool you: Like John Wayne, this is a dessert that means business.
Hill Country Chicken
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