Turkeys are indeed an American bird. Beyond indigenous, they are a seasonal staple, the subject of movies, plays, and kids craft projects across the nation. They are also a large bird, and when cooking them, the cavity for their entrails is quite large. Simply cooking them open leaves the meat dry when baked in an oven. The natural advent is to stuff the turkey with something, almost anything. My personal favourite is to stuff the bird with fruit, which I pitch later because the fruit has done its job to keep the bird moist and add some flavour.
Unfortunately, there is this an almost patriotic trend to serve something somehow edible after shoving it into the cavity of the bird carcass. In childhood, even out West, I experienced this habit of serving the actual stuffing, and I found it even worse then with a young palate. Scarred by decades of disgust, stuffing is the one dish I will always pass on at someone else's table. In some cases, I've noticed that the recipe for the stuffing is actually used and then an additional quantity is served as a casserole bake. By taxonomy, this is quite obviously an accompaniment or side dish, when in all kindness, it should be discarded as cooking waste.
Core Ingredients
* Butter
* Salt and heavy spices
* Some combination of seasoned bread, onion, apple, potato, and celery
Items are mixed together in a bowl and either fried or baked, or fried and baked. The general concept, however, is that the ingredients are cooked. Some folks who are in a hurry will simply buy pre-made stuffing where you add water and then bake it, sometimes adding celery. What is essentially going on is that the stuffing is having the moisture removed from it. When this is then put into the turkey, the moisture of the turkey is drawn into the stuffing, leaving you with moist, sometimes soggy stuffing and a dry bird when used as intended, since breads will attract and hold moisture more readily than meat. That is a particularly clever accomplishment, because the intended purpose of the stuffing has been sabotaged through ignorance or some sort of malice intended for disliked relatives.
First: Butter. This is essentially what you are eating. I've encountered recipes where a "stick" of it is used, followed by more butter to grease the baking dish, and even more butter on the top. And if the tertiary ingredients are somehow fried ahead of time, butter or perhaps oil are used again. This dish is between one fifth and one third butter. If you want that flavour for the turkey, get a turkey fryer and use butter. With the remnants from frying, you could safely use it to grease your frying pans until the snow melts off in the Spring.
Second: Salt and heavy spices. While seasoning a turkey with salt and spices makes a lot of sense, it belongs mostly on the surface of the turkey, not as a dish which would somehow be eaten later. This much salt and spice is usually reserved for pickling meat, like corned beef, and the brine is then discarded and not put on festive stoneware. I wonder if anyone has ever corned a turkey. As I've mentioned in previous posts, salt is used as an emetic. In Brazilian cooking, salt coating the outside will preserve the moisture of the meat, but on the inside, it isn't clear what it is doing. The heavy spices, again, suitable for pickling, not serving in a dish. Spice levels enough to season a turkey as a discarded stuffing and yet be edible afterwards are inconceivable. This has given rise to the notion that stuffing isn't really an accompaniment to turkey, but more of a condiment. I think the best use of stuffing with too much salt is to melt the ice on a slippery sidewalk.
Third: Some combination of seasoned bread, onion, apple, potato, and celery. By themselves, the raw ingredients can be quite enjoyable, however this mixture is often bad news. Seasoned breads (muffins, corn bread, croutons), however, collide with the texture of the fruit or vegetables in a tragic accident on the road to your stomach. Again, bread is meant to hold or draw moisture. It will draw moisture out of the fruit and vegetables, then the turkey. If the bread is saturated, it will then turn soggy. Some culinary criminals will recognize this and then bake the soggy stuffing afterwards. In breads that contain gluten, this produces a hard glaze, especially in the presence of all that butter. Perhaps hard enough to walk on, stuffing could be used to fill cracks in your sidewalk.
With so much salt and butter, it is no wonder that family members at risk in their health will die over the holidays. Combined with relational stress, arguments about the stuffing being too dry (and valiant spouses eating it to rally in defense, despite their better judgement of health), stuffing is among the least safe substances produced in a kitchen and should be labelled as a desiccant and not fit for consumption. My advice for those who believe an accompaniment should have the flavour of the turkey is to cook the turkey in a pan and make gravy from the juices, but what is stuffed in the turkey should be tossed. One option instead of stuffing would be polenta cooked with vegetables.
Potluck Crime: Murder, murder most fowl.
Potluck Crimes
The American Mid-West is resplendent with enduring kitchen atrocities. Whether for tail-gate parties or church potlucks, these gems are genuine.
Friday, November 21, 2014
Saturday, July 16, 2011
Macaroni Tuna Salad
Salads have, for hundreds of years, been a way of mixing staple foods into a useful dish with typically a salty flavor base; indeed, the root of the word comes from the Latin for salt. The right balance of salt in our diet gives us health benefits. A liquid solution will also serve as an emetic. However, a 1000 to 1 ratio of salt intake is lethal, but on the plus side for this dish, you'll be pickled pink. So, like anything good for you, a mix of ingredients needs to be balanced. This dish will drive you to the grave with all the gracefulness of a car rolling on only 3 wheels.
As an adult and after my college years, I noticed macaroni in all kinds of accompaniments where I don't think it belongs. Usually, seeing it in overly mixed company had a reflex response. On one particular social occasion, I was served this dish. A later conversation identified that my attempts to hide evidence of my distaste had indeed killed a houseplant, but not, apparently, the cat that got blamed for the evidence found.
By taxonomy, this is, of course a salad or side dish. However, because of its salt content, might be therefore thought of as a condiment, an emergency medical supply in case of accidental poisonous ingestion, or a fishy tool of the kitchen assassin.
Core Ingredients
* Prepackaged macaroni, often purchased in a box with an envelope of cadmium-colored powder
* Canned tuna, which smells and looks quite a lot like cat food
* Ratios of salad dressing, mayonnaise, and sour cream
Additions
* Onion
* Various muffled spices intent primarily on resuscitating either the color or the texture
This dish is prepared by first cooking the macaroni noodles. One recommendation I will make is to reserve the envelope of powder and use it with a 3 to 1 mixture of mineral oil. It removes rust from gardening tools, while also creating a cheerful lacquer for spades or shears.
The dish is finalized by mixing other ingredients into the macaroni in a large bowl, which can then be stored overnight to further embalm the canned tuna fish. The mixing process usually makes a slurping sound which can also serve as an emetic. The putrescent sedimentation that is produced is then covered, tightly, and refrigerated. If it is not covered tightly, the pungent smell will permeate rapidly. Use of the refrigerator simply doubles the seal. There is no known exobacteria that can form on this dish.
First: prepackaged macaroni. Sure, it is thrifty. It has a shelf life on par with the half-life of spent nuclear fuel. Most college students have learned how to cook it, either through trial-and-error, or by following the dinosaur cartoon instructions on the cheerful box. It's a shame that they don't use the same cadmium powder on the box printing, it just isn't as vibrant as the powder in the envelope. Please don't ingest the contents of the envelope. All edibility tests were performed in North Korea by enemies of the state. This important health and safety testing also was used to determine if the human subjects were witches. Those that survived were drowned, so as to put an end to sorcery. I believe it is there to preserve freshness, much like a silica pack (which is labeled poison). In one popular brand, several ingredients are included to help in reconstitution, which means that the producer took a block of cheese, hit it with a particle accelerator to break it down into quarks, and used quantum chemistry to make it reconstitute into cheese again. Quark Macaroni and Cheese is in fact a very popular brand. Unless you are sustaining life in a fallout shelter, the artificial ingredients and mineral additives will deaden you to the sensation that you are eating food. Foreign food aid regards it as unsafe to distribute to impoverished countries.
Second: Canned tuna. Once again, as a canned food, this also is good to have in a fallout shelter, and will last as long as a nuclear winter. I find the offense of its smell unparalleled. Fresh tuna is great with vegetable salads. I believe that canned tuna is often preserved with oil. My experience is that Castor oil is a popular choice. This is also an emetic.
Third: Ratios of salad dressing, mayonnaise, and sour cream. Salad dressing is an art form, not a squeeze bottle. The cheapest oils are used in its making. Mayonnaise continues to crop its ugly whitehead in far too many recipes across the fruited plains. Who can honestly say that mixing salad dressing and mayonnaise even looks edible? The introduction of sour cream simply adds more fat, somehow. Across all three, there is a guarantee of at least a half cup of salt, enough fat for making tallow candles, and adhesive properties so strong that an oil-can fish will somehow stick to a noodle.
Remaining optional ingredients do little to the sensation of the dish, although raw onion is said to add flavor. Other than a spoonful of cayenne, nothing else could. Without them, the pallor of the macaroni tuna salad would make even a political prisoner in North Korea prefer to try their luck with the cadmium powder than eat this.
The salt content of this salad is off the charts, so it really is a dish of salt with other ingredients included to add bulk. The fat content starts with oily fish, moves on to oil-based dressing, includes other oils and fats, and concludes with spices so strong that they should only be reserved for pickling. In making a fish and pasta dish, cold or hot, start with fresh fish, please. Then, treat yourself to fresh pasta and leave the box macaroni out in the shelter. A white sauce can then be created with a good, dry cheese. Fresh, savory vegetables in small quantity will finish closely to what was probably once a traditional Italian dish.
Potluck Crime: salt as a deadly weapon, lipid malice, and undeniable under food putrescence.
As an adult and after my college years, I noticed macaroni in all kinds of accompaniments where I don't think it belongs. Usually, seeing it in overly mixed company had a reflex response. On one particular social occasion, I was served this dish. A later conversation identified that my attempts to hide evidence of my distaste had indeed killed a houseplant, but not, apparently, the cat that got blamed for the evidence found.
By taxonomy, this is, of course a salad or side dish. However, because of its salt content, might be therefore thought of as a condiment, an emergency medical supply in case of accidental poisonous ingestion, or a fishy tool of the kitchen assassin.
Core Ingredients
* Prepackaged macaroni, often purchased in a box with an envelope of cadmium-colored powder
* Canned tuna, which smells and looks quite a lot like cat food
* Ratios of salad dressing, mayonnaise, and sour cream
Additions
* Onion
* Various muffled spices intent primarily on resuscitating either the color or the texture
This dish is prepared by first cooking the macaroni noodles. One recommendation I will make is to reserve the envelope of powder and use it with a 3 to 1 mixture of mineral oil. It removes rust from gardening tools, while also creating a cheerful lacquer for spades or shears.
The dish is finalized by mixing other ingredients into the macaroni in a large bowl, which can then be stored overnight to further embalm the canned tuna fish. The mixing process usually makes a slurping sound which can also serve as an emetic. The putrescent sedimentation that is produced is then covered, tightly, and refrigerated. If it is not covered tightly, the pungent smell will permeate rapidly. Use of the refrigerator simply doubles the seal. There is no known exobacteria that can form on this dish.
First: prepackaged macaroni. Sure, it is thrifty. It has a shelf life on par with the half-life of spent nuclear fuel. Most college students have learned how to cook it, either through trial-and-error, or by following the dinosaur cartoon instructions on the cheerful box. It's a shame that they don't use the same cadmium powder on the box printing, it just isn't as vibrant as the powder in the envelope. Please don't ingest the contents of the envelope. All edibility tests were performed in North Korea by enemies of the state. This important health and safety testing also was used to determine if the human subjects were witches. Those that survived were drowned, so as to put an end to sorcery. I believe it is there to preserve freshness, much like a silica pack (which is labeled poison). In one popular brand, several ingredients are included to help in reconstitution, which means that the producer took a block of cheese, hit it with a particle accelerator to break it down into quarks, and used quantum chemistry to make it reconstitute into cheese again. Quark Macaroni and Cheese is in fact a very popular brand. Unless you are sustaining life in a fallout shelter, the artificial ingredients and mineral additives will deaden you to the sensation that you are eating food. Foreign food aid regards it as unsafe to distribute to impoverished countries.
Second: Canned tuna. Once again, as a canned food, this also is good to have in a fallout shelter, and will last as long as a nuclear winter. I find the offense of its smell unparalleled. Fresh tuna is great with vegetable salads. I believe that canned tuna is often preserved with oil. My experience is that Castor oil is a popular choice. This is also an emetic.
Third: Ratios of salad dressing, mayonnaise, and sour cream. Salad dressing is an art form, not a squeeze bottle. The cheapest oils are used in its making. Mayonnaise continues to crop its ugly whitehead in far too many recipes across the fruited plains. Who can honestly say that mixing salad dressing and mayonnaise even looks edible? The introduction of sour cream simply adds more fat, somehow. Across all three, there is a guarantee of at least a half cup of salt, enough fat for making tallow candles, and adhesive properties so strong that an oil-can fish will somehow stick to a noodle.
Remaining optional ingredients do little to the sensation of the dish, although raw onion is said to add flavor. Other than a spoonful of cayenne, nothing else could. Without them, the pallor of the macaroni tuna salad would make even a political prisoner in North Korea prefer to try their luck with the cadmium powder than eat this.
The salt content of this salad is off the charts, so it really is a dish of salt with other ingredients included to add bulk. The fat content starts with oily fish, moves on to oil-based dressing, includes other oils and fats, and concludes with spices so strong that they should only be reserved for pickling. In making a fish and pasta dish, cold or hot, start with fresh fish, please. Then, treat yourself to fresh pasta and leave the box macaroni out in the shelter. A white sauce can then be created with a good, dry cheese. Fresh, savory vegetables in small quantity will finish closely to what was probably once a traditional Italian dish.
Potluck Crime: salt as a deadly weapon, lipid malice, and undeniable under food putrescence.
Saturday, November 13, 2010
Funeral Salad
In the Mid-West , major life events require food. Someone is born, you eat. Someone marries, you eat. Someone dies…that’s right, you eat. Funerary potlucks, usually take place in a church basements, with female parishioners being pressed into service to provide dishes that accomplice cold cut platters and bread sponsored by the deceased loved ones. By taxonomy, this is a Fruit Salad, this version however is healthful in name only.
Core Ingredients
- Multiple cans of canned fruit packed in heavy syrup
- Canned pie filling
- Flair ingredients (added at the creators discretion, or lack thereof)
The basic procedure is simple: Open cans, drain liquid, dump into a large bowl, and mix. The sugar content of this dish is an attempt at homicide in and of itself. The real atrocity comes in the myriad of ways in which each individual offender can add their own signature flair.
First: The canned fruit…in heavy syrup. The contents of that little can started its long journey to your local grocery store as a perfectly happy, delicious and nutritious little peach, grape, or pineapple. It blossomed and fed itself on water and sunshine, until it was just beginning to ripen. Then, it was torn from its branch, sanitized, peeled, chopped, and boiled in sugar sluice with preservatives and food coloring added to get just the right shade of grey. Then, to make sure that no hint of nutrition could survive, it was compressed in to cans and sealed under intense heat and pressure to ensure that it would remain shelf stable for at least three years. Whatever is left after all of this, one cannot say, but only a crime scene investigator could determine if it is still fruit.
Second: If the description of the industrial canning of fruit didn’t frighten you, this should! Take the same process as above, but triple the sugar and additives, and lengthen the boiling time until it has congealed the fruit into a viscous, spooky secretion.
Third: Flair. Although creativity is important to creating memorable dishes, not every memory is pleasant. A cook has a responsibility to those who eat their food. While some individuals restrain themselves to a few token banana slices or halved grapes, most tend to compound their felonies by adding anything from their stash of fat-filled and sugar-coated contraband. Nothing that is served with marshmallows, snowflake coconut, candied nuts, and whipped topping, deserves to be called salad!
Calling this dish "Fruit Salad" borders on slander. The main offense is sugar, lots and lots of processed sugar. Preserving fruit removes much of its natural sugars. Processed sugar is added in an attempt to make the end result appealing. This dish consists of at least two if not three ingredients that have been "sugar-preserved." Perhaps a funeral luncheon is the only appropriate place to serve this dish. It might prove to be a comfort to a grieving family to know that by eating food like this, they will all soon be reunited with the dearly departed in that Diabetes Clinic in the sky.
The appeal of fruit salad is its freshness and its simplicity, you don't need a can opener to achieve this. Select the freshest fruits available, clean them, chop them as necessary, and combine them with a bit of lemon juice to prevent oxidation. At the height of the produce season, nothing more is required. If you feel you do need a dressing of some kind, consider a dollop of honey and yogurt, or a reduction of fruit juice. For your flair, try some sprigs of mint.
Potluck Crime: Aiding and Diabetic, Fruit Cupability
Third: Flair. Although creativity is important to creating memorable dishes, not every memory is pleasant. A cook has a responsibility to those who eat their food. While some individuals restrain themselves to a few token banana slices or halved grapes, most tend to compound their felonies by adding anything from their stash of fat-filled and sugar-coated contraband. Nothing that is served with marshmallows, snowflake coconut, candied nuts, and whipped topping, deserves to be called salad!
Calling this dish "Fruit Salad" borders on slander. The main offense is sugar, lots and lots of processed sugar. Preserving fruit removes much of its natural sugars. Processed sugar is added in an attempt to make the end result appealing. This dish consists of at least two if not three ingredients that have been "sugar-preserved." Perhaps a funeral luncheon is the only appropriate place to serve this dish. It might prove to be a comfort to a grieving family to know that by eating food like this, they will all soon be reunited with the dearly departed in that Diabetes Clinic in the sky.
The appeal of fruit salad is its freshness and its simplicity, you don't need a can opener to achieve this. Select the freshest fruits available, clean them, chop them as necessary, and combine them with a bit of lemon juice to prevent oxidation. At the height of the produce season, nothing more is required. If you feel you do need a dressing of some kind, consider a dollop of honey and yogurt, or a reduction of fruit juice. For your flair, try some sprigs of mint.
Potluck Crime: Aiding and Diabetic, Fruit Cupability
Thursday, November 4, 2010
Green Bean Casserole
The first time I had this dish, I ate it under protest. The last time I had this dish, well, let's just say the cook and I are no longer on speaking terms. Children all over the world do not eat their vegetables for one reason or another. If there was but one reason, it might be this dish. Kitchen criminals attempt to defraud their guests with the lure of the healthy, green vegetables, but the crisp, crunchy veneer of deceit indicates this dish has malnutritious intentions. By taxonomy, this is a either a vegetable bake, or a green bean-intensive soup.
Core Ingredients
Without exception, this dish can be eaten without baking. Green beans do not require stewing in a casserole. This neither improves their natural flavor, nor their already canned texture. The truth is, this is baked as a casserole, usually until the oven toasts the top of the green beans, and the filler agglutinates a mucus paste onto the bottom of the green beans. Seasoned oven offenders can sometimes even eradicate the verdant hues of canned green beans, replacing it with the tawny ochre of the filler.
First: Canned green beans. Yes, they are inexpensive. an 8-oz can often goes for under a dollar. However, 16-oz of fresh green beans are usually around two dollars, plus it is less packaging and you are not buying a lot of water. Proof? Drain a can of canned green beans. How many ounces of water did you buy? Canned or even frozen green beans are so different from their fresh counterparts, it really is no wonder children all across America loathe vegetables. Both processes alter the chemistry of the vegetable by leaching nutrition, texture, and flavor into either the "ice" or the "liquid," depending on the process. Neither thrift nor palate excuse this vegetable derision.
Second: Flavor filler. Canned vegetables are not known for flavor, so over the years, other canned products have bubbled up to lance this flavor shortfall. Often enough, salty, slightly inorganic but somehow creamy soups are involved. Gobs of sour cream have been known to surface, along with butter bricks, and jars and bars of almost-cheese. It is the filler that does the hatchet job on already failing haricot verts. Guarded family recipes involving this dish will specify the most profane secret filler ingredients.
Third: Crunchy topping. The cooked, canned green beans have already lost the texture test. A bite feels slick and wet like a squeaky shoe out of the rain. Several mouthfuls make this very apparent. To ensure this crackpot crockery crime gets eaten to the bottom, a topping ensues, as if to offer some penitence for the soggy bottom. Variety in this area usually mocks the dish with irrelevance. "Bacon" bits. Freeze-dried onion soup mix. Crackers. Soup crackers (at the price of some honesty to the rest of the dish). Croutons, apparently. Salty, always and somehow, as if the topping might somehow dry out the casserole just a little.
A green bean casserole is likely going to contain more fat and salt than is really safe to serve. Again, the canning or freezing process takes so much value out of the green beans, they are little more than fiber and color. Stewing the green beans in the casserole may even call the fiber value into question. Since the filler often doubles or triples the price of the dish, there's no defense left to call this a thrifty meal. Fresh green beans that have been steamed or precisely boiled (no walking away for 30 minutes to chatter with your guests), mixed with other fresh and healthy flavors will easily make even the pickiest of kids recognize that vegetables are important, require a lot of attention, and have a personality all their own. A properly cooked green bean dish may even avoid the expense of obesity, heart disease, and teen angst for parents this holiday season. Love your kids and love to cook well.
Potluck Crime: Comestible Sabotage, Second Degree Salt and Batter
Core Ingredients
- Canned Green Beans
- Flavor filler
- Crunchy topping
Without exception, this dish can be eaten without baking. Green beans do not require stewing in a casserole. This neither improves their natural flavor, nor their already canned texture. The truth is, this is baked as a casserole, usually until the oven toasts the top of the green beans, and the filler agglutinates a mucus paste onto the bottom of the green beans. Seasoned oven offenders can sometimes even eradicate the verdant hues of canned green beans, replacing it with the tawny ochre of the filler.
First: Canned green beans. Yes, they are inexpensive. an 8-oz can often goes for under a dollar. However, 16-oz of fresh green beans are usually around two dollars, plus it is less packaging and you are not buying a lot of water. Proof? Drain a can of canned green beans. How many ounces of water did you buy? Canned or even frozen green beans are so different from their fresh counterparts, it really is no wonder children all across America loathe vegetables. Both processes alter the chemistry of the vegetable by leaching nutrition, texture, and flavor into either the "ice" or the "liquid," depending on the process. Neither thrift nor palate excuse this vegetable derision.
Second: Flavor filler. Canned vegetables are not known for flavor, so over the years, other canned products have bubbled up to lance this flavor shortfall. Often enough, salty, slightly inorganic but somehow creamy soups are involved. Gobs of sour cream have been known to surface, along with butter bricks, and jars and bars of almost-cheese. It is the filler that does the hatchet job on already failing haricot verts. Guarded family recipes involving this dish will specify the most profane secret filler ingredients.
Third: Crunchy topping. The cooked, canned green beans have already lost the texture test. A bite feels slick and wet like a squeaky shoe out of the rain. Several mouthfuls make this very apparent. To ensure this crackpot crockery crime gets eaten to the bottom, a topping ensues, as if to offer some penitence for the soggy bottom. Variety in this area usually mocks the dish with irrelevance. "Bacon" bits. Freeze-dried onion soup mix. Crackers. Soup crackers (at the price of some honesty to the rest of the dish). Croutons, apparently. Salty, always and somehow, as if the topping might somehow dry out the casserole just a little.
A green bean casserole is likely going to contain more fat and salt than is really safe to serve. Again, the canning or freezing process takes so much value out of the green beans, they are little more than fiber and color. Stewing the green beans in the casserole may even call the fiber value into question. Since the filler often doubles or triples the price of the dish, there's no defense left to call this a thrifty meal. Fresh green beans that have been steamed or precisely boiled (no walking away for 30 minutes to chatter with your guests), mixed with other fresh and healthy flavors will easily make even the pickiest of kids recognize that vegetables are important, require a lot of attention, and have a personality all their own. A properly cooked green bean dish may even avoid the expense of obesity, heart disease, and teen angst for parents this holiday season. Love your kids and love to cook well.
Potluck Crime: Comestible Sabotage, Second Degree Salt and Batter
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Crock Pot Franks and Beans
I was at an American Legion somewhere North of Columbus, Ohio when I was exposed to this dish. The culinary carnage that ensued is worthy of a war tribunal. By taxonomy, this is a chili con carne, or it is a stew made out of a chili dog.
This dish is minimally comprised of:
First: the hot dogs. American wieners are, on commerce volume, the worst parts of any number of animals, made to a fine paste and shoved into an artificial casing. Further, the meat is pre-cooked. Almost every time, there is a meat tenderizer as well as some sort of sugar, such as dextrose, and plenty of salt. when sliced or quartered, the average American hot dog will take on the appearance of a dismembered finger, or worse. Any sausage will be greasy, so stewing this meat in a crock pot guarantees the grease will rise to the top of the container. Look for vibrant, orange pools at the top of the dish.
Second: beans. The Mid-West relishes their canned, sweet beans. Hormel, Bush's, you name it. These beans have been pre-cooked and embalmed in a heavy corn syrup. They also contain a decent amount of salt. These beans by themselves are grimy and saccharine, but when combined with something else, The syrup overpowers most anything. Unless you are going through chemotherapy, you have no basis of comparison for this flavor.
Third: sweet sauce. As if the beans are not sweet enough, pre-diabetic America seems to think sugar always improves a dish. The sweet sauce is often a hasty afterthought, usually involving condiments such as barbecue sauce, ketchup, and steak sauces. Sauces take a lot of work to get right, so without good instincts, starting with something really sweet means you have no control over where the flavor is going to go, because it is already pinned down in a corner. Some of the more heinous acts to adjust the sweet sauce involve chili powder or pepper sauce. This is a lot like dropping gunpowder into a gas tank to make a car run faster.
The syrup of the beans and the sauce add their flavor to the hot dogs. This is apparently the intended goal of the slow cooking. If this meat wasn't pre-cooked, braising meat with a fine flavor base is a good way to cook a tough cut of meat. But, this is stewing in a double-sweet syrup. Furthermore, American wieners are formed meat and then they have the tenderizers in them anyway, so slow cooking makes no sense on meat soft enough for retirement homes. This isn't the right way to cook this meat (try grilling, as intended). A recipe involving fresh meat and better beans is the start of a real chili. Invented in Texas, you would think this is an American natural skill. It isn't.
Potluck Crime: Aiding and Diabetic, Petty Salt
This dish is minimally comprised of:
- Hot Dogs
- Beans
- Sweet Sauce
First: the hot dogs. American wieners are, on commerce volume, the worst parts of any number of animals, made to a fine paste and shoved into an artificial casing. Further, the meat is pre-cooked. Almost every time, there is a meat tenderizer as well as some sort of sugar, such as dextrose, and plenty of salt. when sliced or quartered, the average American hot dog will take on the appearance of a dismembered finger, or worse. Any sausage will be greasy, so stewing this meat in a crock pot guarantees the grease will rise to the top of the container. Look for vibrant, orange pools at the top of the dish.
Second: beans. The Mid-West relishes their canned, sweet beans. Hormel, Bush's, you name it. These beans have been pre-cooked and embalmed in a heavy corn syrup. They also contain a decent amount of salt. These beans by themselves are grimy and saccharine, but when combined with something else, The syrup overpowers most anything. Unless you are going through chemotherapy, you have no basis of comparison for this flavor.
Third: sweet sauce. As if the beans are not sweet enough, pre-diabetic America seems to think sugar always improves a dish. The sweet sauce is often a hasty afterthought, usually involving condiments such as barbecue sauce, ketchup, and steak sauces. Sauces take a lot of work to get right, so without good instincts, starting with something really sweet means you have no control over where the flavor is going to go, because it is already pinned down in a corner. Some of the more heinous acts to adjust the sweet sauce involve chili powder or pepper sauce. This is a lot like dropping gunpowder into a gas tank to make a car run faster.
The syrup of the beans and the sauce add their flavor to the hot dogs. This is apparently the intended goal of the slow cooking. If this meat wasn't pre-cooked, braising meat with a fine flavor base is a good way to cook a tough cut of meat. But, this is stewing in a double-sweet syrup. Furthermore, American wieners are formed meat and then they have the tenderizers in them anyway, so slow cooking makes no sense on meat soft enough for retirement homes. This isn't the right way to cook this meat (try grilling, as intended). A recipe involving fresh meat and better beans is the start of a real chili. Invented in Texas, you would think this is an American natural skill. It isn't.
Potluck Crime: Aiding and Diabetic, Petty Salt
Scalloped Potato Hot Dish
As a child, my mother introduced me to my father's family favorite. I was scarred by this and other dinners in my youth. This dish survives as an inexpensive alternative to knowing what you are doing. Taxonomy suggests a hybrid of au gratin potatoes and pot roast.
Main ingredients:
First, the potatoes are often undercooked. When they are undercooked, they have a crispness akin to an apple, but only in the center. Although digestible to iron stomachs, undercooked potatoes are also rather slimy in this context, and even on their own, can cause child-like palates to heave and throw. The gluten liquefies. Essentially, it makes a paste.
Second: Ham. Ham is sold as an already smoked or otherwise cured meat. It also means the meat is store-bought, packaged, and prepared. If so, it is likely soaking in a cocktail of preservatives. The meat ought to already be tender by curing and further tenderized by chemical tenderizers. Now, applying the braising process of a pot roast to slices or chunks of it should further what, make it more tender? No. You end up with a soup meat at this point. And, for added effect, the soup consists of gluten, FDA-knows-what chemical tenderizers, and enough salt to make a functioning, electric battery.
Third: Cheese. There are so many ways a cheese can go wrong in a dish. Try making a proper cream sauce and not knowing what is involved. Even a decent amateur cook can be foiled by a good cheese in a recipe without a solid education on cheese in cooking. So, why work with real cheese? Many Americans don't. It's too complicated. Velveeta is known for its cheese-like foodstuff. No surprises here, it cooks a lot like margarine. The artificial color really helps remind you that it isn't exactly cheese, either. still too much work? Canned, and even aerosol cheese is an even faster alternative to ingredients. The cheese as a top layer also creates a heat shield, preventing the potatoes from further cooking. It melts into a surprisingly consistent, sticky layer. When combined with the soupy, salty gluten, the cheese becomes self-sticky, but then is externally slimy.
When combining these three core ingredients, over the years, kitchen criminals have been known to try to improve on what really is a bad idea. The soupy quality has to be soaked up, somehow, with an optional ingredient. Enter the crunchy topping. Anything that toasts well has been applied. Croutons. Crumbled crackers or chips. Dry onion soup mix.
The one, consistent quality of all these ingredients is salt, and lots of it, especially the artificial cheeses out there.
If you really want scalloped potatoes, read a recipe written by someone who knows what they are doing. Slice the potatoes coffee filter thin with a deli slicer, not the blunt carving knife that wasn't even sharp when you bought it. Cook them properly. If you really want ham, remember, it is probably already cooked. There's no need to slop the trio together in a dish. Ever.
Potluck Crime: Aggravated Salt and Batter
Main ingredients:
- Potatoes
- Ham
- Cheese
- (optional) Crunchy topping
First, the potatoes are often undercooked. When they are undercooked, they have a crispness akin to an apple, but only in the center. Although digestible to iron stomachs, undercooked potatoes are also rather slimy in this context, and even on their own, can cause child-like palates to heave and throw. The gluten liquefies. Essentially, it makes a paste.
Second: Ham. Ham is sold as an already smoked or otherwise cured meat. It also means the meat is store-bought, packaged, and prepared. If so, it is likely soaking in a cocktail of preservatives. The meat ought to already be tender by curing and further tenderized by chemical tenderizers. Now, applying the braising process of a pot roast to slices or chunks of it should further what, make it more tender? No. You end up with a soup meat at this point. And, for added effect, the soup consists of gluten, FDA-knows-what chemical tenderizers, and enough salt to make a functioning, electric battery.
Third: Cheese. There are so many ways a cheese can go wrong in a dish. Try making a proper cream sauce and not knowing what is involved. Even a decent amateur cook can be foiled by a good cheese in a recipe without a solid education on cheese in cooking. So, why work with real cheese? Many Americans don't. It's too complicated. Velveeta is known for its cheese-like foodstuff. No surprises here, it cooks a lot like margarine. The artificial color really helps remind you that it isn't exactly cheese, either. still too much work? Canned, and even aerosol cheese is an even faster alternative to ingredients. The cheese as a top layer also creates a heat shield, preventing the potatoes from further cooking. It melts into a surprisingly consistent, sticky layer. When combined with the soupy, salty gluten, the cheese becomes self-sticky, but then is externally slimy.
When combining these three core ingredients, over the years, kitchen criminals have been known to try to improve on what really is a bad idea. The soupy quality has to be soaked up, somehow, with an optional ingredient. Enter the crunchy topping. Anything that toasts well has been applied. Croutons. Crumbled crackers or chips. Dry onion soup mix.
The one, consistent quality of all these ingredients is salt, and lots of it, especially the artificial cheeses out there.
If you really want scalloped potatoes, read a recipe written by someone who knows what they are doing. Slice the potatoes coffee filter thin with a deli slicer, not the blunt carving knife that wasn't even sharp when you bought it. Cook them properly. If you really want ham, remember, it is probably already cooked. There's no need to slop the trio together in a dish. Ever.
Potluck Crime: Aggravated Salt and Batter
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