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?

4. More Super Sandwiches

Dear Reader,

We realize that we're getting this recipe in right at the 11th hour, and we apologize. Officially. We've just been kinda busy this past month. So as our way of making it up to you, we chose a recipe card that had not one, not two, but THREE concoctions. We hope you enjoy.

Yours in Crockering,

Mike & Emily

 

Opening Remarks:

Emily: The name of this month's recipe card is "More Super Sandwiches," and it was Mike's choice. I was kind of surprised by this choice because it seemed so...normal. At least compared to the other recipes we've tried. But, knowing Mike, I knew he had a plan.   Also, the Peanut-Bacon-Pickle sandwich sounds kind of gross, but I like all the stuff in it. Besides, anything with bacon in it HAS to be good.

Mike: I'm feeling the need to defend my choice. So here goes: this recipe is from the "Snacks Around the Clock," section which right off the bat tells you it's going to be amazing. Secondly, there are three recipes contained herein: one (Beef-Egg Sandwich) that looks like a particularly hideous pattern of wallpaper from the 70s...

Emily: I know what it looks like. When I was in high school, somebody threw up in the parking lot of Denny's. It looks like that throw up (I think we were coming back from a band trip).

Mike:...one that seems like it could be historically bad (Peanut-Bacon-Pickle Sandwich), and a third (Frank-Sauerkraut Sandwich) that's, well, it's just a freakin' hot dog, isn't it? I have to admit: I was intrigued. Also the name of this recipe card is "More Super Sandwiches." Where are the other "Super Sandwiches?" I don't think there was any "Super Sandwiches" in the recipe library. At least, I didn't see it. Which sort of begs the question: If you're going to go to the trouble of calling them "More Super Sandwiches," shouldn't it be at least kind of obvious what the other plain old "Super Sandwiches" are? Shouldn't there be some sort of pattern to them? But Beef-Egg Sandwich, Frank-Saurkraut Sandwich, and Peanut-Bacon-Pickle Sandwich? First of all, what's so "Super" about any of these - what's so "Super" about a hot dog? When does a sandwich achieve super status? Does it have to be a hot sandwich, or would a plain ol' PB&J make the cut?  There's no explanation.

Making It.

Mike: The making of this recipe marks kind of a major milestone in the history of the Dunbar-Dean household: we used all four of the burners on our stove for I think the first time ever. It's kind of a big deal - we cook a lot. In fact, it got kind of confusing, with so many different sandwiches happening at once.

Emily: I'd like to agree w/ the amazing feat of using all four burners. In addition, I'd like to point out that there was no dairy at all, and no pimentos in this recipe at all. Pretty monumental occasion for my girl Bet-Bet. So we were cooking and there were all these things going on, and we were both drinking (of course), and I feel like we got kind of confused trying to time it all. I felt overwhelmed by components.

Mike: The thing is - and I'm not sure if this had to do with the fact that we're starting to get a bit more comfortable with these recipes, or whether it was a byproduct of the fact that we had so many different things happening at once - but this was the first time we started cutting corners a bit and not following the recipes exactly. In fact, I don't think Emily actually looked at the recipe once during the making of the so-called "More Super Sandwiches."

Emily: No, I definitely didn't. It was very easy, with so much happening at once, that it got really easy to forget what we were doing. I lost focus. But I had two glasses of wine! That helped.

Mike: The making of the Peanut-Bacon-Pickle Sandwich also marked the continuation of an ongoing battle that's been raging (or at least smoldering) since Emily and I first moved in together: whether chunky or smooth is the superior peanut butter. I don't think it's even close, because chunky has all the qualities of smooth PLUS it's also got chunks of peanuts. Clearly that's a value add, and clearly chunky is better.

Emily: Smooth is better. Because if I want peanut butter, I'll eat peanut butter. And if I want peanuts, I'll eat peanuts. Chunky just has too much going on. I just want creamy peanut butter, not peanuts. I don't want to be distracted by the texture.

Mike: So when this disagreement first came up when we'd only been dating for a few months we were both sort of unreasonable about it, but in a cute way because we'd only just gotten together. But then when we actually moved in together we started buying creamy exclusively because basically Emily likes to get her way. But now that we've been together for a while and the "varnish has a bit of tarnish," so to speak, I'm fucking reintroducing chunky. Because why not? I pay the rent, too. We now have separate peanut butters in the house.

Emily: I'll allow it. We have separate jams too.

Mike: So anyway the Peanut-Bacon-Pickle Sandwich called for peanut butter to be spread over a piece of bread. But we couldn't agree on which peanut butter to use, so we ended up spreading chunky on one half of the piece of bread, and creamy on the other half. It was kinda like our version of the Kansas-Nebraska Act, only with two different kinds of peanut butters instead of slave and free states. And a piece of bread instead of the United States (creamy peanut butter is such a slave state, by the way).

Emily: I have no idea what he's talking about. Anyway, we hoped that the peanut butter slavery act or whatever would somehow make the Peanut-Bacon-Pickle sandwich more tolerable. I realize we're not being very linear in our description but it kind of reflects the actual making process- frenzied, chaotic, and all over the place. 

Sometime during the frank-saurkraut making, maybe boiling the dogs, I realized we were listening to Alicia Keyes on itunes and asked which sandwich did Mike think she would like best. This started a game of "Which 'More Super Sandwich' Would This Artist Prefer?" that lasted the entire "making" process.

Mike: There wasn't much special about the making of the Frank-Sauerkraut Sandwich (gee, I wonder if that has anything to do with the fact that it was JUST A HOT DOG), but one thing of note did happen: while simmering, the sauerkraut attacked my jeans with a spittle of juice. This made me upset, and I made Emily take a picture to document the attack.

Emily: One last note about the "making" of the Beef-Egg Sandwich. We weren't exactly sure if we were supposed to throw everything into the pan and stir it up, or if Betty was asking us to create a patty-like object. We discussed the possibilities for a while and ultimately decided on the former. In retrospect, it would have been pretty simple to figure out if we actually READ the directions, or you know, LOOKED at the picture on the front of the recipe card.

Eating It.

Mike: I lost RPS, 2 games to 0 (scissors over paper, paper over rock) and so went first. I chose the Peanut-Bacon-Pickle Sandwich first because it looked the worst.

(Oh and by the way: remember how I was talking about our peanut butter feud, which led us to creating a perfectly segregated piece of bread? Well that was all well and good, until we'd actually finished making the sandwich and I CUT IT DIAGONALLY, completely ruining the whole point of a segregated piece of peanut buttered bread in the first place. Unbelievable.)

So anyway I took a big bite. Tasted like the way plastic smells when it's burning in a fire (a taste that for some reason I immediately associated as the taste of brain cancer). But despite all that, it actually didn't seem that bad.

Emily: It did! It tasted like flea collar! It's really a shame we wasted the bacon.

Mike: For some reason I didn't mind it. I think I actually even made a comment about being able to eat the whole thing. But then I took a second bite, which is really when the full horribleness of the sandwich became clear to me. For some reason this is a sandwich that has more awful than can be contained in one bite. Not to be all dramatic about it, but there really wasn't anything about this sandwich that made me think of the words "More" or "Super."

Emily: I didn't like it.

Mike: The other two sandwiches were pretty good though. I spent a little more money and got some Nathan's hot dogs for the Frank-Sauerkraut Sandwich, and I was glad I did. Those suckers are good 'n juicy!

Emily: Mike actually doubted the inclusion of the raw onions on top of the sauerkraut, but I insisted in an effort to keep the integrity of the project intact. In the end, we both thought the onions were crucial and definitely a positive addition.

Mike: Yes. Surprisingly good ratios.

Emily: And something I've noticed: I tend to get all kinds of existential-like with these recipes. I'm constantly asking "Why Betty? Why that choice of processed condiments for a sauce? What is the reason for this strange shaped meat structure? What are you trying to tell me B?"    As predicted, it happened again when I took a bite of the Beef-Egg sandwich. "What is this- a burger or an omelet? The dill pickle makes it seem like a burger. But wait! The egg, onion, and green pepper confuses it all to hell.    Would ketchup help? Cheese? Why are you playing with my miiiiiind?????"   

Don't get me wrong, it was edible. Dare I say tasty? Maybe not. Honestly, I was too distracted by the identity of the thing to really fully consider the flavor. The unanswered question continues to haunt me.     

Final Comments.

Mike: This recipe might not have been a "sexy" pick, but I'm pleased with it. There was a lot going on - from the crazy multi-burner action we had going while we were making it, to another skirmish in the peanut butter wars, to a surprisingly full spectrum of sandwich tastes (Frank-Sauerkraut: good, Beef-Egg: mediocre, Peanut-Bacon-Pickle: awful). All in all, I'd say Betty gave us plenty to think about with this recipe. Plus I was able to slip in a Kansas-Nebraska Act reference which is always good.

Emily: I'm actually glad we dialed it back a little bit and took a moment to really consider the classic sandwich in 3 of it's many forms. And this conservative choice actually sets the stage for the May recipe (my choice) extremely well. I already know which one it's going to be, and it is especially bizarro. Luckily for us all, May starts this week.

Mike: I don't think it was that conservative...

Emily: They're sandwiches! And one of them was a hot dog!

Appendix A

"Which 'More Super Sandwich' Would These Artists From Mike & Emily's iTunes Playlist Prefer?"

1) Eddie Vedder, "Hard Sun" (Frank-Sauerkraut. Can't you just picture him eating one on his tour bus? Not sure why.)

2) David Byrne, "My Fair Lady" (Peanut-Butter-Pickle. Because he's weird. What's the PowerPoint-iest sandwich of the bunch? Probably still Peanut-Bacon-Pickle.)

3) CSS, "Music Is My Hot, Hot Sex" (Emily: I can't actually imagine CSS eating anything. Mike: What do they even look like? I can't tell which sandwich they'd like until I know what they look like.)

4) OK Go, "Here It Goes Again" (Beef-Egg)

5) Alicia Keyes, "No One" (Mike: Peanut-Bacon-Pickle. Does this make me racist? Emily:   Frank-Sauerkraut, because she's from New York. And hot.)

6) Band of Horses, "The Funeral" (Beef-Egg, because it reminds them of eating an omelette late at night at a 24-hr diner, whilst pining for a lost love.)

7) Kenny Rogers, "The Gambler" (Mike: Peanut-Bacon-Pickle. Probably the only thing Alicia Keyes and Kenny Rogers have in common. They should totally do a duet though. Emily: I think he'd be in it for the bacon.   I see him eating a lot of bacon.)

8) The Flaming Lips, "The W.A.N.D." (Emily: I...I...just don't know. Mike: I'm going straight up Frank-Sauerkraut here, but with some sort of twist. Maybe a freakishly large Frank. Emily: with alien dancers in santa suits squirting the mustard EVERYWHERE.)

3. Crusty Salmon Shortcakes

 

Opening remarks :

Emily: I'm hopeful that this recipe will be surprisingly good.  I like every ingrediant (besides pimentos which I just don't understand).  Now, I like FRESH salmon, never had canned salmon.  But it should be just like canned tuna, right?  RIGHT??

Mike:  Let's make one thing clear: I have been against this recipe from the start.  I wanted to make "Bologna Biscuits with Vegetables," but was overruled at the last minute.  Next time!

 

Making it:

Mike: We're not getting along tonight.  Emily thinks we should make the biscuits according to the recipe to stay true to the exercise. In an effort to salvage something edible for dinner, I think we should instead go with the recipe on the back of the bisquick box.  WHY THE CONFUSION BCROCK? Emily and I almost break up 3 times.  (just kidding).

Emily:  My grumpiness is growing exponentially, because, after the biscuit fight, I feel like Mike abandoned me to the land of cutting pimientos and olives and searching for parsely flakes, while he dabbles in such time honored ingredients as flour, milk, and butter.  

Grumpiness growing-  what kind of olives? Both green and black are represented in the garnish.  But which kind should be in the actual dish?  The recipe just says ripened olives.  That Betty- she's a slippery minx or whatever you call it.

As an aside, I'm totally fine with eating just olives for dinner.  Delicious.

Mike:  Disgusting.

Emily:  Can't find parsely flakes.  Will cilantro flakes work?  It's gonna have to.  GRUMPIER.

Now I can't open the pimento jar.  Mike can't help because his fingers are full of biscuits.  GRUMP RISING. 

After starring down the jar of pimentos in a desperate attemp to will it open with my mind, I discover that they are packaged by Moody Dunbar, Inc.   I'm so not kidding.  It's like somehow, someone knew my struggle.  BCrock-  is that you?  Can you hear me (me me me me me......)

Mike: The "Moody Dunbar" (SO true right now...) pimentos are Dromedary Brand. 

Emily: We discuss what a dromendary is.  And decide that it is not an ostrich, or a camel, but a llama (which is kind of like an ostrich and a camel put together - think about it).  We still don't know what pimentos are or why they are called dromedary.

Mike: I remember that a dromedary is like a llama because I used to play a lot of SimCity 2000, and that game is OBSESSED with llamas and dromedaries.  I could never figure out why.

Emily: What the F w/ cutting up pimentos and olives into tiny pieces AGAIN.  It seems like friggin' pimentos are in every recipe we've made so far.

Mike:  I think that's true.  I'm starting to wonder if pimentos first made their way to America in the '60s - Betty seems to be in love w/ them (some research for later).

Emily: The salmon slop (grrrrr) is done and the wholesome regular totally normal biscuits are baking.  Time will tell.

Mike:  After putting the biscuits in the oven I made a mini-sculpture with the excess dough.  It looks like the mandrake root baby from "Pan's Labrynth."  After Emily took a picture of it, I inexplicably popped it into my mouth and started chewing.  IT'S JUST DOUGH!  What was I thinking?  No idea.  I quickly spit the thing out into the sink...

Another aside: we put the extra canned salmon out for the cats to eat.  They didn't touch it (a bad sign). Emily ate a little, and is worried.

 

Eating It.

Mike: Wow, that was super fast, especially when compared with how long it took to cook "Giant Burger." The recipe is listed under "impromptu party fare," and Emily would agree, though (again) she doesn't think Betty quite understands the concept of a party, or what would be acceptable fare to serve at a party.  I agree with Emily's assessment.  If I ever go to a party and Crusty Salmon Shortcakes are served (which sound dirty, by the way), I'm outta there.

Yet another aside: Look at those perfect biscuits!  Looks like i made them the correct way...

Emily: I hate the biscuits.  We prep the Shortcakes with olives on top and broccoli garnish. Quick - olive garnish is TIPPING! Bring in the reinforcements!

Mike:  I lose rock, paper, scissors, 2-1, and so must go first.  I ask Emily to prepare me a bite, which she does (the bite is a bit large, in my opinion).  I've just dubbed these Salmon Shortcakes "Crusty," and the first thing I do is to smell my bit of "Crusty."  I can't articulate exactly what it smells like right now, but it smells terrible.

Emily: It also didn't quite come out the "right" color.  It's kind of gray, but in the picture it's really pink.  Another bad sign.

Mike wonders aloud what to do w/ olive garnish, then declares "I'm not eating that" (meaning the garnish). We decide to unofficially dub tonight's project "I'm not eating that."

Mike: I now know what it smells like.  My mother used to make this recipe that she called "Bunny Wiggle," which, if I remember correctly, was a similar to "Crusty" in that it had this creamy sauce, but was made with ham or spam or some other such "am" meat, and had corn in it and was served on cornbread.  'Bunny Wiggle" was, I think, the single worst recipe my mom made.  And she made often enough that I remember really being concerned that I'd have a new girlfriend over for dinner and my mom would make "Bunny Wiggle," and this new, budding relationship would end because of "Bunny Wiggle."

Anyway, "Crusty" smells a lot like "Bunny Wiggle" right now...

I take a bite...

IT TASTES LIKE BUNNY WIGGLE TOO!  Smells like Bunny Wiggle, tastes like Bunny Wiggle. Amazing, and disgusting (man I hope that somebody out there reading this has heard of Bunny Wiggle.  I may have to get the recipe from my mom and post it).

It's also not warm enough.

Emily: Bunny Wiggle?  I'm uncomfortable.

Mike: "Crusty" has taken on yet another nickname: "Bunny Bunny Wig Wigs."

Emily: It's my turn to take a bite.  But first, I sniff.   



I'm pretty sure it smells exactly like the canned cat food we gave our cats yesterday morning.  Mike loads up the fork (A little bit more than what I gave him if you ask me) and I hesitantly lick it before delicately placing  the fork into my mouth.  Smelled bad, tastes worse.  Close your eyes and picture the bottom of the ocean complete with fish poop, barnacles, and sunken pirate ships full of  a decomposing One-Eyed Willy and all of his piratey friends.  Yep - that pretty much describes it.  I'm actually crying.  If Mike's mom made this (or bun bun wig wig) the first time I was over (instead of pepperoni pizza) I'm pretty sure I would have dumped him.  In a nice way of course.  

Final comments.

Emily: I'm sad that this recipe sucked.  But, on reflection, I feel this was a turning point in our project.   I feel a new connection to Betty Crocker since she spoke to me through the pimento jar.  I truly believe she is with us, somehow, somewhere.  From now on,  Betty and I are soul sisters.  That's pretty hot.   

I also feel that it was a turning point for Mike and I.  We had our ups and downs (biscuits/pimentos), weathered the storm, and supported each other throughout the crustiness.  I feel proud of our work tonight.  Ah, love.

Mike: I'm going to repeat that I was against this recipe from the start.  'nuff said.   Also, here is the first hit Google returns when I search for "Bunny Wiggle:"

(so strange. and also NSFW)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=myIBLrdepsQ

Sadly, I could find no mention anywhere of the recipe my mom made when we were kids.  I now believe she made it up because she secretly hated us.  Hey mom - I'M ON TO YOU.

2. Giant Burger

  

#2 - Giant Burger
First Impressions.

Emily: My first impressions of the "Giant Burger" were conflicted and confused.  Why would anyone ever feel the need to make one giant burger instead of individual burgers that fit on a bun?  Why?  Why?!?

But I have to say that something about the burger intrigued me.  This burger is under the subcategory of "Hurry Up Main Dishes" - did Betty realize that a regular burger takes 5-10 minutes to cook in total, while this Giant Burger takes 45-55 minutes.  What's Hurry Up about that?

Mike: My first impression was one of surprise.  Why would you stick cream cheese, horseradish, and mustard in the middle of a perfectly good burger?

Emily: I have something else to say.  Getting back to the whole "one burger vs. individual burger" thing.  I think it's a slight against democracy, because everyone has different needs in terms of burgers and (what's the word I'm looking for....) CONDIMENTS!  Not everyone likes ketchup on top, and not everyone likes cream-filled center.  And the Giant Burger decides for all of us what we like and love?  It's just not fair.

Mike:  Keep in mind that Emily's only had 3/4 of a glass of wine up to this point.  I can't wait to hear what comes out of her mouth after glass #2.

Emily: It's been a long day...

Making It.

Emily: The ingredients were pretty straightforward...

Mike: Agreed.

Emily: We originally bought more than 1.5 lbs of ground beef so that we could make emergency individual burgers for dinner, if needed.  But as we were putting the meat and salt together in Step 1 of the recipe, it became clear that the Burger wasn't Giant enough.  So we added extra meat. (We pretty much fucked our safety net)

Mike: I wouldn't exactly say we "fucked" our safety net, but it is true that we needed more meat.  But even when we added the extra 1/4 lb or so, it still wasn't enough.  During Step #4 - in which I had to go around and pinch both meat halves together to make a sort of "Giant Burger Meat Pie" - I still had to scoop out some excess cream cheese, horseradish, and mustard filling w/ my finger.

Emily: I had to do that too!

Mike: Yes, we both did.

Emily:  Also, I had to do that with numb fingers.  Let me explain.  While mixing the ground beef and salt together in a bowl (Step #1), I had to use my hands.  For some reason the meat was EXTREMELY COLD.   I mean, like Antarctica cold.  Like so cold I felt like my fingers couldn't move.    I made Mike mix the rest because my fingers were like popsicles coming out of my hands.  Useless.

Mike:  Still not even 1 glass in.  [sigh]

Emily: Also, we ran into a snag that we ultimately decided to overlook.  When we opened up the horseradish we had in our refrigerator, it seemed browner than normal.  Browner than it seemed like it should be. We looked for an expiration date, but couldn't find one.  I thought briefly about calling my mom to see if horseradish expires, but by that time I'd already mixed it in w/ the mustard and cream cheese.   I'm a little concerned about it, though, because throwing up Giant Burger would be extremely bad.

Mike:  I think it's going to be fine.  One side note: I basically made a mockery of the individual onion slices for the finished product picture (see below).  At first I inadvertently sliced the slices too thick, so I had to go back over each one and re-slice them.  It was time-consuming and tedious, and sucky.

Emily:  So now the burger's in, and browning nicely (I just checked it).  I had a pickle, and I could be OK for eating just pickles for dinner, if necessary.  I'm going to get some more wine.

Mike: We now have 17 minutes left on the timer.  We'll check back in when it's time to eat!  (By the way, this is where I need to say that I have fairly high hopes for the Burger.  It's ridiculous, granted, but it's still just a burger.  How bad can it be?)

Mike:  One more note (10 mins. to go at this point):  the Giant Burger is cooking, and it smells like fart!  I actually asked Emily twice if she farted, just to be sure.  It's that sort of eggy sulfur-like fart, which is how I know it's not litter box and it's not Spencer's butt (we wiped his butt clean, just to be sure; nope, not him). At this point, my hopes are plummeting.

Emily: I think it's hilarious.  Maybe it's the onion rings?

Mike:  It's not the onion rings.  It's not hilarious.

 

Eating It.

45-55 minutes later:

Mike: Emily lost rock, paper, scissors, 2-1, so she's going first this time.

Emily: By the time the 55 minutes had passed to achieve "well done" status, it was already past 9 o'clock. We were starving.  This is in no way a "Hurry Up" dish.  But, in all honestly, it kinda looked good.  Even though the cream cheese filling was gray, and the Giant Burger was cooking in a pool of pink meat juices, I was excited to have dinner.

Mike: First, a word on cutting it.  We tried arranging the Giant Burger to look like the Betty Crocker picture, which meant that a giant piece needed to be cut out of center.  However, when we tried to cut the thing all kinds of cream cheesy ooze seeped everywhere.  It was really difficult to cut Giant Burger (two well-done patties separated by cream cheese filling), so we decided just to take a picture of it whole.  It was easier.

Emily; I dutifully took the first bite of Giant Burger.  The first words out of my mouth were "Not bad."  A little salty, but not nearly as bad as "Jellied Chicken Salad."  The cream cheese substituted, in a way, for mayo.  I ended up eating my entire slice.

Mike: Yeah, it became clear after bite #1 that what Betty was after was some sort of substitute for your prototypical restaurant burger with ketchup, mustard, cheese, mayo, and pickle.  She obviously couldn't come up with anything for ketchup and mustard, so she left those as is.  The cream cheese and horseradish were clearly meant to take the place of the other ingredients, however.  It wasn't all that bad, but my question was: Why?

Emily: I echo that question.

Mike: What's the big deal with cheese, pickle, and mayo (if desired)?  It's not like they're any more exotic that cream cheese and horseradish.  The burger is such a classic food - if cream cheese and horseradish were an acceptable substitute for all the usual condiments found on a burger, don't you think we'd have known about it by now?

Furthermore, there was what Emily is calling "a clear lack of bunnage."  And I agree with that.  I found myself wishing there was some bun thrown in the mix, if for no other reason than to temper all the other tastes a bit, and to hold the thing all together.

Emily: The ratio was all off.

Mike: What was needed was a Giant Bun.

Final Words.

Emily: It's all about the "why" for me.  Why do this?  Why would this be appropriate for any kind of meal, or gathering?  Why the cream cheese?  Why did I have seconds?  That's it.

Mike: So, it really wasn't that bad.  And we were hungry.  But it's not like it was good, either.  In fact, it was so heavy and oozy and cheesy.  I feel like I'm having a hard time breathing - Giant Burger is just sitting in my stomach right now.  Even so, I was STILL hungry after two medium-ish slices, so I had something healthy instead - an apple (which helped).  I'll tell you this: B-Crock didn't exactly encourage healthy eating.

Emily: Word.  Where are the Tums?