These moon pies, made especially for Bele Chere, were freshly fried, with great care taken to preserve the cohesiveness of the sandwich. The batter was thick and creamy, a good sign for any fried food.
Maybe I don't like moon pies (blasphemy in the South, I know), but the fried moon pie just didn't do it for me. My dining companion, local writer Miles Britton, agreed, for the most part. He liked everything about the moon pie, except the fake marshmallow slurry.
The graham crackers reminded me of sweetened saw dust, but the batter saved the day. It was far tastier than the alligator, successfully clearing the palate for my next gastronomical adventure.