I'm probably the only person I know who reads cookbooks much like novels, i.e. back to front, but there are times when A)I'm too distracted or busy to follow a story, or B) in search of something new to eat. Or C) Both. And as I am not reticent about experimenting in the kitchen, I am eager to get some new ideas. Now, not all my experiments work out well, but the ones that do keep me trying. I do think, though, that even though I've had some notable disasters, I really should get credit for the things I don't try. Like human cloning, just because a recipe is possible doesn't mean it should happen. But if I am ever out to get my family, or have a guest whom I never, ever want to see again, I shall prepare one of the following:
Sure, something by the name of "Party Chicken Livers" sounds festive enough, but really, is any party improved by the appearance of chicken livers? And a dish called "Liver Fritada" just has "sad attempt at jocularity" written all over it. (Anyone who writes recipes for a living and cannot spell "frittata"is not someone I am going to trust anyway.)Besides, I cannot envision any occasion in which I would be happy to see liver, no matter what animal it comes from.
I saw a recipe in a cookbook once for "Ham Loaf Swirl", that I read out to the Mister with barely contained horror in my voice. I wish I could scrounge up the picture for you, because it was astonishingly obnoxious. The recipe instructed for the cook to make a 8x10" rectangle of minced ham and raw egg and mayonnaise (wait, it gets worse!) and then cover that with canned green beans, and roll it all up like a jelly roll. Then the hapless cook was to place it on a foil lined cookie sheet (all the easier to dump the mess out in one easy step!) and cook it in the oven "until it had firmed up". Yum! Nothing gets my appetite going like the prospect of "firm ham"! And mayonnaise!
Recently, I saw a recipe for "Chicken Taco Wedges", which was an attempt by the Pillsbury company to get you to use frozen pastry crust instead of taco shells or flour tortillas. Because.....why, exactly? Oh, that's right, Pillsbury doesn't sell taco shells or flour tortillas. The idea of tacos made out of pastry puts my gag reflex on high alert.
I despise canned tuna, always have, and only tolerate it in the house because the cat likes it. (Himself eats it now and again, which disgusts our children no end. To them, it's like he's eating cat food right out of the can. You should see their faces.) So imagine my gleeful awe when I found a recipe for "Sweet and Sour Tuna Casserole". Damn, that sounds so nasty, I don't even know where to begin. The idea of sweet and sour tuna is bad enough, but to add noodles and bake it just seems to be adding insult to injury, if you ask me. (Casseroles can go either way, in my opinion; they often seem to hover delicately over that line between "delicious" and "abominable", and tumble over into the latter with very little provocation. I don't know if it's the idea of all sorts of cooked stuff being jammed in a dish and cooked again that does it, or the prevalence of cheap, goopy, starchy ingredients that make up so many casserole concoctions. Either way, I know casseroles are sadly over-represented in my "Eater Beware" file.)
There were two recipes I found that only made this list because of typos in the cookbook, rather than any deficiencies in the recipes themselves. In fact, both recipes were somewhat inoccuous, but the critical lack of proofreading rendered them unmakeable: one was for a seafood soup, which instructed one to "add a half a pound of crap to the mixture", and the other was for a Sloppy Joe recipe, which, horribly, said to "add meat to bum, top with cheese and enjoy!". Um, no, thanks just the same.
Finally, we still talk about this recipe, which I found in a recipe book that one of my friends parents bought in a trailer park in Texas. (There's all kinds of jokes about that, too, but I digress.) There were so many atrocious attributes to this recipe, we wondered if someone submitted it as a joke. It was for, get this, "Curried Wieners on Toast". Do you believe it? Where do you start? The idea of sliced up hot dogs swimming in a flabby curry sauce is bad enough, but it was the serving it on toast which put it over the edge for me. What, were they trying to gentrify it and elevate it's delicacy by putting it on toast? Somehow making it more appealing to the likes of Jackie Kennedy with that little finishing touch? Or did it somehow make it less exotic, less daring, the addition of humble, everyday toast? We will never know, because I will never, in a million years make it, no matter who I am trying to piss off.
As I've said, not all my experiments have worked out, but if my family only knew the bullets they have been dodging all these years, they'd be much happier with what they've been getting to eat. And they'd be very, very afraid.
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