They would have locked my grandma up in jail. I still dream of her deep-dish apple pudding, made with Macintosh apples and two stick of butter (and an entire cup of brown sugar), and once I needed to make something for a meeting of my high school Italian club and she whipped up something called an Italian cream cake that was so good it didn't even seem real.
Then again, she was a Vermont farm girl married to a son of an English uppercrust family so she also made lots of strange things like boiled tongue. But it was worth it for her deserts, her roast beef, and the special magic she had with green beans.
She would have gotten twenty-to-life in today's world.
The desserts of my youth in rural Tennessee were something as well, with pecan pie, chess pie, coconut cake, boiled custard, and sweet tea made with sugar and saccharine.
But I was only trying to make a point about the professional journalists inability to spell dessert.