Znood el Set - my first sweet step to cannabilism

I have this rather exquisite wholesaler of Lebanese sweet around the corner from my place of work in North Acton - it's called, deliciously enough, Sweet Land. I frequent the place all too regularly as their baklava straight out of the oven is absolutely divine. This morning, I popped by to see whether I could quickly acquire a birthday cake of some variety as one of my darling assistants reached adulthood over the weekend (or thereabouts). They only had the one cake, some ghastly puffed up flaked white chocolate structure which I had no choice but to purchase. I wrote down the name of the recipient and in return she gave me, as is customary with my visits to Sweet Land, some fresh baklava to sample as she scurried off to scribe my colleagues name on top of this snowy mountain. But, what was this!? A plastic tray, a paper napkin and something new! Not the usual assortment of syruped diamond, square and nest shapes but something as yet unseen and untasted. A Lady's Arm she told me. Not baklava, not okra (that would be fingers) but a Lady's Arm (that's Znood el Set in Arabic, Google tells me). What a delicious mystery! Looks wise it really was quite a regal thing to behold - a cylinder of crisp, sticky pastry, perhaps deepfried, but in what? Biting into it I was greeted by a most wonderous cream filling - we're not talking about a straightforward supermarket single or double cream but something much more refined. A texture more between mascarpone and cream patisserie and taste-wise just the right amount of sweetness with a slight hint of citrus. The shell was even more so interesting with definite overtones of rose water.
I came back to the office musing whether any of my female colleagues had cream filled arms. My immediate cohorts assured me that this was not the case. Lucky for them as, in my hungover (yes, again) state, I would have quite readily whipped them off to slurp on more of that sweet nectar. Perhaps they're not true ladies, I thought. What an interesting test that would be to find one's self a lady friend of true cultivation! Similar in twisted logic and outcome to the witch dunking of the middle ages. Remove an arm and if they ooze blood then discard, if they ooze cream then she's a lady but dies all the same. Alas... Although you'd think there would now be a less invasive and fatal way to conduct this? What delightful modern day vampire tale! A boy who, affilicted with a rare form of diabetes, roams the captial getting sugar highs from the cream he syringes out of his hapless victim's arms!
This really is the most bizarre hangover I've had in a while...