About the project.

About the project.

One day about a year ago, while perusing the basement of our local goodwill, Emily stumbled upon a large box of Betty Crocker recipe cards from the 1970's. She immediately brought them over to show me, and we both immediately fell in love: Emily with the vintage-looking photos and I with the fact that each recipe looked and sounded grosser than the last ("Ham Waffles," "Fondu Party USA," "Ways With Squash," etc.)

It became clear that these recipe cards needed to go home with us. Immediately.

Our original plan was to use the front of the cards to create silly Christmas Cards, but that idea didn't quite work out (it just didn't seem right to send them to our grandmothers, the odds being that at least one of them had tried making a "Party Cheese Ball," or had participated in a "North Pole Party" in the past).

Ironically, it wasn't until recently that we actually thought of making these recipes, and documenting the process.

Will the "Hot-in-a-Bun for 48" and "Connecticut Beef Supper" taste as disgusting as they look? Probably. But "probably" just isn't a good enough answer for us. After all, "probably" wasn't a good enough answer for Betty Crocker when she asked aloud the question "Should I just throw away this extra plate of three day-old salmon I have lying around?" If it had been, we wouldn't be staring at a card labeled "Crusty Salmon Shortcakes" just now.

So here you go. We hope you enjoy reading "The Weirdo Betty Crocker Recipe Project" as much as we hope to enjoy making it. And, should we suffer an irreversible brain aneurism while eating the "Soup Breakfast," or "Coconut-Cherry Freeze," or "Veal Supreme," then let this serve as a written account of our final, agony-filled moments.

On with the Crockering!

Monday, June 30, 2008

5 & 6 Men are from Mars, Betty Crocker is from Venus

5. Ladies Seafood Thermidore
6. Man-Pleasing Appetizers

Dear readers,
Um, so, can we apologize once again for being super late and generally absent for the past two months? Is an apology even acceptable at this point? It’s like we broke up and now we’re asking for some make-up make-out time- which is always interesting and generally a win-win for everyone, right? In our defense, we’ve been kinda busy with some small stuff like APPLYING AND GETTING INTO AN MFA PROGRAM (Emily) , and you know, some other small stuff like GETTING ENGAGED (Emily & Mike). (Sorry for the yelling, we’re excited!) Anyway we will attempt to make it up to you, dear fabulous, totally attractive, also you have great hair, reader, by not only giving you two whole recipe reviews at once but by posting them on our brand spanking (that’s hot!) new blog solely dedicated to our Betty Crocker adventures and to your enjoyment.

Can we still be friends? Lovers?
Sincerely,
Emily and Mike.


Opening Remarks

Hello, everyone. This is Mike speaking. I’m going first, so it’s up to me to relate to you what exactly is going on here with this posting. Since we’ve been away for some time, we decided to do a kind of “Battle of the Sexes” style of thing, where I make a recipe from the Better Crocker Catalogue for Emily and some of her female friends, and Emily makes one for me and some of my male friends. We try to outdo each other in the awfulness of the recipe, so as to better lay claim to overall sex superiority. Or something like that.

Luckily, Better Crocker has made this very easy for us, conveniently separating some recipes along gender lines. In today’s enlightened times, the idea of “gender-specific culinary creations” might seem a bit odd, but you have to remember that this catalogue was conceived back in the 60s, a time when men were men and women were women (and weren’t allowed to wear long pants or have credit cards). So it follows that back then there’d be foods that only men or women could eat. Anyway we were intrigued by this idea, wondering whether there really were foods that were strong enough for a man, but PH-balanced for a woman. So we decided to try a couple.

Mike’s recipe: Ladies Seafood Thermidore


A Few Disclaimers


Disclaimer:
I had a feeling that the recipe I chose, “Ladies Seafood Thermidore,” would be really, really, bad. Like, bad to the power of 10. When the picture looks like throw-up (as this does), it actually has to taste much BETTER than average food, just to justify the fact that you’re eating something that looks like puke in the first place. Otherwise, why would you do it? You wouldn’t.

Unfortunately, most foods that come out looking like puke (when done the right way) rarely taste like anything but.

Strike one.

Disclaimer:
Another thing I should mention is that I’m not at all a good cook. In fact, I am a very BAD cook. I get bored or distracted, and end up missing key ingredients, or doubling things I should’ve halved.

Strike two.

Disclaimer:
Also: I was very heavily drunk while making this recipe. It wasn’t necessarily by design. I didn’t set out going “Oh I’ll get drunk and screw up the recipe because I’m drunk.” Rather, I just got bored and distracted (see above Disclaimer) and starting drinking lots of beer. My notes from that night look like they were written by a mildly retarded 3rd grade hobo. That’s how drunk I was.

Strike three.

The poor ladies never really had a chance.



Making It

Making Ladies Seafood Thermidore really sucked, because it had lots of gross stuff in it. Just check out some of these selected ingredients and recipe words:

· canned shrimp (smelled like tinny fart)
· cream of shrimp soup (smelled like tinny fart)
· “Dutch Oven”
· “cartilage removed” (disgusting)
· canned lobster (Couldn’t’ find it. For all I know, it no longer exists, so I substituted ridiculously-expensive packaged fake lobster meat. Canned version almost certainly would’ve smelled like tinny fart, though.)

The recipe basically called for me to put everything into a pot and heat to boiling, and then pour the resultant over crunchy bread things that for some reason Bet refers to as “croustades.” This all seems easy enough except for the fact that I bought only ONE can of cream of shrimp soup, instead of the TWO the recipe called for (see how bored and distracted I get? It starts way back when I’m just buying the ingredients.). This led to a very time-consuming reclamation project in which I tried to create a substitute for cream of shrimp soup with water and milk (in retrospect, if I’d simply farted in a can of water and then microwaved it I probably would’ve gotten much closer to the real McCoy. But that’s enough about farting for a while.). This led me to inevitably put too much liquid into the mixture, which meant I then had to try to thicken the Thermidore out by adding a bunch of flour to it. While I was frantically running around trying to get the consistency to come out right, the ladies were sitting at the kitchen table, trying to figure out the meaning of word “thermidore.”

Jess: A thermidore is a dutch oven for ladies. Farting under the sheets. Queef!

It comes out that apparently Jess loves “queef.” I’m assuming she loves the word, and not the act.

Of course, by this time I’d accidentally spilled too much flour into the pot, so that I had to then go back to adding more milk and water to thin it back out. But I also put in too much of that, so it’s back to the flour (and a couple more beers to get me through it). And so on. Before long I’m a sweaty, drunk, frazzled mess. It’d taken me over an hour to get this far, and I was starting to feel bad that I was making my ladies WAIT for what inevitably was going to be a horrible experience.

I go heavy on the paprika, because I figure it will mask the taste a bit.

Jess: The smell is making me queasy (queefy?). I've never had creamed seafood of any sort. I've never thought to myself: "Shrimp looks really good. Why don't I beat it into a pulverized state and reform it into food?”

Hey Hennes, it looks like your old walls!

Emily: I ate the shrimp-biscuit-shrimp crap, so I think I’m primed for this (see #3 – Crusty Salmon Shortcakes).

Hennes: OOH! It just turned a weird color! The shrimp is blending!


At this point two very climactic things happen at once:

1) The whole mixture starts to take on this weird, grayish color (like the color of death) that was not expected. I figure “what the hell” and throw in the rest of the fake lobster meat.
AND
2) A special guest calls in!




A Special Guest Calls In

Jess takes a call from her mom in New Jersey. This is very exciting because Jess had been telling us that one of the first things her mom did after getting married was go out and buy a Better Crocker recipe catalogue! We excitedly tell her what we’re doing and why. She doesn’t seem all that enthused, and I wonder if she’s mad at us, like we’re somehow denigrating her first post-marital possession. Which of course we are.

Jess’ Mom: What section is it in?

We tell her (“Crowd-Size Entertaining” – once again how wrong you are Bet. You expect us to entertain a crowd with this shit?). She runs off to look it up so she can follow along. The croustades are out of the oven, so it’s time to eat.

Jess: A revelation: it’s pink and smells sweet. Just like ladies!

(By this time the mixture has turned pink, probably due to the bunch of extra fake lobster meat I put in at the end. It did not smell like ladies, however. At least not the kind of ladies I want to associate with.)

Emily: It smells like low tide.

Jess loses a round-robin rock-paper-scissors tournament and has to go first. Her mom has by this time located the recipe, and leaves us with this:

Jess's Mom: I bet this wasn't cheap, so you’d better appreciate it.




Eating It

Jess’ Turn
I present to the ladies three plates of Thermidore on croustades to choose from. It’s clear Jess does not want to eat it. She keeps talking, which is something she does when she’s nervous.

Jess: I can feel the bile from my stomach stirring.

She selects the middle plate, but does not take a bite. She continues stalling by making the other two select a plate. For some reason Hennes takes the one that’s all soupy, with the biggest chunks.

Emily: I’m taking the one with the renegade lump.

There’s one plate with a renegade lump in it. Emily takes that one.

Hennes: It looks like cat puke, Mike!
Jess: It looks actually like the picture.
Hennes: Oh yeah, it looks right…


Jess starts breathing heavily and repeating herself. She reminds me of a robot that’s low on batteries. I feel bad.

Jess: All right, hold on. All right, hold on. All right, hold on. All right, hold on. All right, hold on!

She takes a bite, and continues breathing heavily.

Jess: It's very much like the sea. You know when you order fish at a chinese restaurant, and it takes like seafood, like the sea?

Hennes: Look at all the chunks of seafood. This might be Mike's worst nightmare, right here.

It is. I’m really glad this Thermidore is PH-balanced for ladies only!

Jess: If I went down to the ocean and saw one of those ocean beds--

Emily: --A tidal pool.

Jess: If I went down and licked a tidal pool, it would be like this.


Hennes’ Turn
Say what you will about Hennes, but she is a trooper. She digs right in, and then exclaims that her bite seems a bit too dry and digs back in for more Thermidore slop. She takes an amazingly large bite, and immediately frowns, as if realizing her mistake. Meanwhile, Jess is still breathing heavily, and has closed her eyes.



Hennes (frowning, with that perplexed look): I’m not sure what I just experienced. It's salty and soggy. Wow. Huh. That's all I got. It's just really salty. I just keep experiencing the butter croost aid over and over, and that part is nice. I ate a lobster chunk.




The consensus is that I made a really good croustade. Which is good because it’s basically just a crust of bread with butter on it (I consciously slathered a LOT of butter on). I figure it would’ve been really sad if I’d screwed that up. Of course they did take me a really long time to make, because at first I tried to cut the middle out of the bread with a cookie cutter like the recipe suggested, and then gave that up and decided instead to just make a little indent in the bread to hold the Thermidore with. That probably took me a good 20 minutes to figure out.

Emily’s Turn
It’s taken so long for Hennes and Jess to finish that Emily’s bit is cold and mushy. Extra grossness there. She eats it though, and fans herself a few times. She also makes that perplexed look.

Emily: It's like...um. It is...it's like sour. It's sour and salty. Can it be both? But also mild. I would be unhappy if I came to a party and was served this. Like if you went to a lady's party...

Hennes: It's just like I don't have words. It's like - it's seafood. It's bland, and weird. It's salty, and it's seafood, but you can't even distinguish what kind of seafood. This dish does not make me feel like a lady.

Jess: I imagine 6-7 ladies, all dressed in their fineries, all making this face (makes puke face)...the texture is obtuse.

Em: It's so...coastal.

Jess: I'm going to taste it again. I feel like my mouth needs to know what just happened to it.

The Thermidore is cold and firm now, and is starting to take on a slapping noise when touched with a fork. They all take another bite (miscellaneous smush sound as they chew).



Hennes (mouth full of Thermidore): Horrible. This is horrible.

Em: It is worse! Barnacle! Barnacle!

Hennes: Yes, now I see muscle bed!

Jess: Ew! With a subtle cardboard.

Me: That might’ve been an accident.

Em: Tastes a little bit like can.

Hennes: I'm tasting an overwhelming sweetness.

Emily: I might puke a little bit.


Final Comments

I don’t know what “Man-Pleasing Appetizers” are going to taste like, but I really can’t imagine they’ll be worse than this. I’m really glad I didn’t have to eat this Thermidore and feel confident that I’m going to win the Battle of the Sexes.

…and yet, I’m not nearly as satisfied with my presumed victory as I should be. This whole “solo-cooking” experience was really stressful for me. With the recipes we’ve made before, if the food was bad I always knew that Emily and I were equally responsible for it’s horribleness (Horribledom? Horriblocity?).

But I felt wholly responsible for the mess that was Thermidore, and that bothered me because I truly like these ladies. No matter how much I wanted to pick a horrible recipe and win, I didn’t really like seeing my friends suffer.

Maybe, after all, Better Crocker was on to something. Maybe Ladies Seafood Thermidore really is for “Crowd-Sized Entertaining,” provided the crowd you’re entertaining is made up entirely of strangers.

I feel like I’m beginning to understand Betty. Like I’ve at long last learned the spirit of Christmas.


Emily's Recipe: Man-Pleasing Appetizers






Opening Remarks

[To get Mike back for making us eat crap..ahem, sorry, let me try that again...] In a gesture of gratitude for a lovely meal, some of my talented lady friends and I dedicated an evening to “cooking for men” for Mike and our dear friend Ryan. Luckily Betty Crocker had this exact evening covered. (Oh Bet Bet, you man pleaser you!) In a recipe section called “Men’s Favorites”, I settled on a card titled “Man-Pleasing Appetizers”. It seemed a well-rounded spread (beverage and snack) and also because it posed the challenge of locating chicken livers. (shudder).

There is no way to do the beauty of this recipe section justice in my own words so I present, word for word, the exact description of “Men’s Favorites” Straight from Betty to me, and then, um now, to you:

About MEN'S FAVORITES…

When a man’s fancy turns to thoughts of his favorite foods, chances are good that you’ll find the right recipe in this collection. If he’s in a meat-and-potato mood, tempt him with Pot Roast and Sour Cream Gravy. When he yearns for food like mother used to make, bring on Chicken Fricassee with Dumplings light as a cloud.

For occasions when only gourmet fare will do, try him with a masterful Beef Stroganoff served by candlelight. And if he insists the simple things in life are best, wait till he tastes you Savory Duckling on a Spit!

They’re all here – princely recipes for kingly dishes, tested and male-approved for you.

Cordially,
Betty Crocker

Amazing, yes? Take a minute. Are you with me? Good, let’s move on.

The Man-Pleasing Appetizers we created for Ryan and Mike were a hot beef broth based beverage called “Pow!” and a broiled, meaty appetizer called “Rumaki” (no exclamation point). The recipe card only had a picture of Pow! So we had no idea what Rumaki looked like. Also, we had no idea of what the word Rumaki meant. Betty provided no explanation. It was swathed in a veil of mystery as most of these recipes have proven to be.


Making It

Ok, let me start by saying that while Ryan is a happy carnivore, Shannon, his wife, and one of my fab helpers, was vegetarian for years up until like 2 seconds ago. She is now at the point where she gingerly enjoys a turkey sandwich. Hennes and I are meat eaters but honestly, the ingredients for these recipes were enough to turn our stomachs. While Hennes and I grossed each other out with bloody organs and stinky meat juice, Shannon gracefully busied herself by making the alternate dinner- a baked ziti- and NOT LOOKING AT THE CHICKEN LIVERS. It was probably for the best. The manly men played video games in the living room while we cooked. It was very domestic in a creepy commune sort of way. We had all been drinking for some time.

Shannon: (while photographing the ingredients) “These ingredients look like trailer trash”.




To start, the chicken livers for the Rumaki had to be marinated for four hours in teriyaki sauce (oops!) so we set out to marinate them for 20 minutes at the beginning of the making process and decided that would be good enough. In order to marinate them, we had to touch them. It was a difficult challenge, only made a little bit better by knowing that we didn’t have to eat them.

The chicken livers came in a small plastic tub for $1.89. Hennes and I pried open the top of the tub and peered inside to what could only be described as something straight out of an operating room. Hennes made me touch them and they were slimy and sticky. Also weirdly connected by a white globule string that made us question how many livers chickens actually had. I thought only one but these seemed paired like kidneys.



Chicken livers wrapped in bacon seemed so odd. Why not use a scallop or a piece of plain old regular chicken? Also, Betty provided a recipe for teriyaki sauce from scratch if you had difficulty locating it in the grocery store. It included salad oil, katsup, vinegar, soy sauce, pepper, and crushed garlic- which is not even close to teriyaki sauce. We used store-bought. After placing the livers in the marinade, it still looked disgusting. No teriyaki sauce was going to save this recipe.

Emily: Shan, I dare you to stir that with your finger.
Shannon: I dare you to ask me that one more time.



While marinating, we decided to prepare the Pow! beverage. This was getting excited. The exclamation points reminded me of musical theater.

During my shopping trip earlier, I was distracted in my search for chicken livers, and accidentally bought beef consommé instead of beef broth. I' not sure I knew there was a difference. Also I forgot the celery for the swizzle sticks so we substituted with some ancient scallions I found in the fridge. And I thought I had dill weed (you’re a dill weed) but didn’t so we used celery salt instead. The consommé in the can smelled like pond, vitamins, and/or farm and only got worse when we heated it up.



While adding the horseradish to the broth,

Hennes: “Horseradish always reminds me of Passover
Emily: Hot roast beef Sandwiches
Shannon: Bloody Mary’s


Sadly, it wasn’t Passover, and we didn’t have hot roast beef sandwiches or bloody mary’s. Those would’ve been way better. All we had were just a lot of raw meat, wine, and some tiny airplane sized bottles of liquor.


Eating It

Finally the Pow! was warmed and it was time to serve. Shannon dropped the scallion in Ryan’s beverage on the floor and just picked it up and plopped it back in the glass. Classic.

Mike and Ryan both commented that it was “really fucking hot”. I warned them to be careful not to burn their lips off. They both asked if it was soup. Clearly it was way more than soup. It had an exclamation point.

Mike: Dude it’s really hot. What the fuck is a scallion doing in my shit?
Ryan: are there frog eggs in it?


Mike lost rock paper scissors and tasted first: “just like cancer soup”. I had no idea what this meant. Ryan started doing stretching and breathing exercises to warm up.

Shannon: Are you ninety and a woman?
Mike: I’ve always suspected it.


He tasted it and gagged. Hennes suggested he swizzle it but I don’t think it helped. Mike stated that “it is a soup without the ‘oop.” Again, I have no idea what this meant.

Apparently this was not a refreshing beverage but they suggested that it might be a welcomed treat if they had just come inside from completing an Iditarod. It was most definitely a winter beverage and would be much more preferable with vodka. They were not pleased.


More Making

After that disappointing first act, the ladies and I headed back into the kitchen to assemble the Rumaki. At this point, Shannon became extremely busy with making the alternate dinner. Suspect.



Hennes and I created a sort of assembly line thing that once again resembled an operating room “water chestnut; toothpick; sugar, scalpel”. After much “ew”ing and “gross”ing we put it in the oven to bake (actually broil) and it began to sizzle and smoke.



Hennes: Holy shit. I think the liver is oozing out!
Shannon: It smells bad. Oh my god- it smells so bad.

Emily: How are the toothpicks holding up?
Hennes: They aren’t on fire yet!






More Eating

A bunch of rock-paper-scissors ties here, but ultimately Ryan lost after Mike figured out Ryan’s method. Ryan didn’t want to eat it but eventually took a bite.

His initial reaction was “teriyaki bacon – not good”. Then it was followed by a “what the fuck is this crunchy center- unnecessary” and closed with “lots of different things happening”. And he continued to gnaw on the chicken liver while Mike took a bite.

Mike’s reaction goes a little like this:

“Chalky? Bacon is good. Not outright bad. But it chalks up in my mouth…ew…Ew! (heavy breathing.)…Feels like all kinds of different fragments in my mouth…. I have all kinds of bits in my mouth…I NEED A DRINK!…I NEED SOMETHING T O DRINK BUT THE ONLY THING TO DRINK IS BEEF BULLION!

Ryan had more to say: “The outside is weird but ok. The teriyaki and bacon is weird. And the water chestnut and liver is like “Boo, fuck you bitch”

After all this though, they both bravely went for round 2.

Ryan: If we were talking about the things that turn me on, a crunchy center is not something that turns me on.

Mike: (smelling it) Dog breath?


We thought Ryan dove in for round 3 but actually he was just eating the bacon.

They agreed that they would probably spit it out at a party.


Final Comments

What is a Man-pleasing appetizer? Why would men need special appetizers? I. Just. Don’t. Know.

Hennes: Maybe men need to replenish their salt after a long day of hunting and gathering, raping, and pillaging.

(Possibly.)

Shannon: This is the widow-maker’s special. This is what you’d serve your husband if you wanted him to die.

(Most definitely.)

In reflection, Pow! and Rumaki were just fat and salt served in different forms.- a liquid and a solid. Mike and Ryan both felt insulted that Betty Crocker thought so lowly of their pallets.

Mike: Jack London would’ve loved it.




Final Final Comments

The Betty Crocker Battle of the Sexes was a great experiment. Not only did we get to create disgusting recipes with some of our good friends, we learned a little something about ourselves along the way. Mike is an awful cook. Emily is not so a skilled chicken liver handler. We are much better as a team.

Most importantly, we are now able to look past our culinary challenges and see the power Betty Crocker holds in bringing people together. What seemed like a war in the beginning really turned out to be an excellent way to share a meal (and gag) with friends. What more could we ask for?

3 comments:

ECO said...

This is all amazing. I'd like to take part next time (i say this with hesitation). Also, i just wanted to let you know that my family eats chicken livers every Christmas eve and is one of our favorites. It is also a way of weeding out any our our prospective spouses to see if they are worthy of the family. We make it into a sort of dip thing - maybe i'll whip it up for our next hair night. Cheers!

Unknown said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Unknown said...

Shit yea! Nice work. I was just laughing my ass off while not opening my mouth... Very tricky, but essential for the workplace. -Hennes