The Alec Baldwin Twitter Sandwich feat. Banana’s Baldwin

Recipe Source: Unknown
Year: early 1900s
Recipe: Frying Bananas
Music to cook by:  Fire and Rain (sweet baby James)

Early last month, I watched my second and youngest child leave home and start down the path of college academia.   It took becoming a ruler of a vast empty-nest empire to recognize that the chaos that comes with shuttling two children to various activities, school, and friend’s houses was the chaos that prevented my life from falling into the abyss of monotony.

Needless to say, in their absence my life has become its own virtual hamster wheel, a real Groundhog Day movie.

Phil Connors how do we stop this thing?

Last week I was served a big ole heaping helping of monotony abyss reprieve thanks to Alec Baldwin.   It was such a minuscule event, but the consequences for me were huge.

I spend a lot of time online because it’s how I pay the bills.  The social media explosion has helped me get through the tedious hours I spend chained to a desk writing/editing about various vacuous manufacturing processes. I’m a technical writer for God’s sake.  My work is BORING and said work is that unidentifiable gunk that congeals my monotony salad.

One of the social medias that beckons my Phil Connors brain is Twitter®. I spend time on Twitter® playing word games, telling the world I’m picking my nose, chatting with strangers, and occasionally participating in celebritivity (saying something about a celeb I like).  The celebrities I pay homage to on Twitter are Keith Olbermann (makes politics entertaining), Anderson Cooper (makes politics understandable), Steve Martin (banjo beast with a scoop of funny), Santa Clause (the man with the candy), and Alec Baldwin (SNL host champion).  If Colin Firth and Liam Neeson were on Twitter®, I’d be glued more than I already am.  I mean………..hey……….

HELLO Mr. Darcy! Colin Firth in the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice.

On Wednesday, Alec commented on Twitter® that he would like to do an album featuring the influences of Shakespeare and Snoop Dogg.  I responded with a suggestion (see below).  He immediately retweeted my response (copied and pasted my comment on his Twitter® account).  In my best Emeril voice……….BAM……….I was an Alec sandwich.

Alec - Krissy Sandwich..........probably taste like the Twitter bird. TWITTER CHICKEN.

Suddenly, a swarm of Tweeps (Twitter® participants) came out of the Twitter® woodwork.  I was slammed with messages, responses, and new Twitter® friends.  Some of the new Tweeps  have turned out to be really cool and a lot of fun…………..all because of Alec.

For this week’s Great Grandmother blog, I decided to take a recipe out of my Great Grandmother’s journal and Baldwin-ize it to show my gratitude for the Twitter® experience.

Alec and his girlfriend appear to worship at the throne of healthy and Alec’s brother Daniel cooks constantly, so I had to choose wisely.  Since my Great Grandmother’s journal reeks of Southern early century cooking (tons of sugar and lard), there had to be compromise.  I decided to go with a recipe that involves bananas.  I mean how can you beat a recipe called Banana’s Baldwin?  The compromise?  I fried them.  Note: I did use an egg substitute and vegetable oil in lieu of lard to keep this as healthy as possible.

Step 1:

Cue the Sesame Street music. One of these things is not like the other.

How’d the Oreo® get in there?  Ok, Ok.  I confess.  I snuck it into the banana fry party.

Step 2:

Fry baby. Fry.

Step 3:

Ta Da! Banana's Baldwin

Step 4:

The Fab Lab approved of the Banana's Baldwin. Plain banana? No. Fried banana? Yes. She is a true Southern dog.

My Critique
The fried Oreo® spoke the loudest to me and was the first casualty.  I was not disappointed that I fried it.  The cookie itself melted inside the breading.  It was totally Oreogasmic.  The bananas?  They were interesting.  You’d have to be a banana fan to want to cook them regularly.  I felt like I was eating disguised banana’s foster.

There ya have it.  Banana’s Baldwin.  On a more serious note, the Baldwins have created a breast cancer research fund dedicated to their mother.  If you want to help me keep that painting featured in the previous blog out of my house this is a perfect example of how YOU CAN DONATE TO CANCER RESEARCH AND OWN A PAINTING!  Even if you don’t want to own a painting, it’s a good cause that I urge you to check out!   http://www.findacure.org/home.html

 

Q&A With J. Cleaver: Will Cooking with Lard Catch a Ward

Recipe Source: St. Louis Globe-Democrat
Year: Not Sure – Possible 1930s
Recipe: Big Lard MolAsses Cookies
Music to cook by:  Faithfully (a Perry I actually like)

Q & A with June Cleaver

“Cook with lard,” Kevinfucias the Mechanic exclaimed.  “It will make you a fisher of men!”  OK, so that’s not exactly what he said.  His comment was more along the lines of, “if you’d start cooking with lard, you’d be married within months.”  I think it’s more like if I start cooking with lard I’ll wake up with a third butt cheek (aka lard ass).  Sorry, there will be no pictures of a third butt cheek, but if I get married…………..WATCH OUT!!!

I have never in my life cooked with lard.  Though I’ve eaten it,  I wasn’t even sure what lard was. I know a couple of lard asses, but that’s different.  Note:  I’m pretty sure the term “lard ass” was the precursor for the term “junk in the trunk.”  Turns out, lard is your basic pig fat-ola.  Oh………and…… hey, guess what?  There is a lardbutt.com where you can get your own lard butt t-shirt.  Sorry,  I’m not sanitizing my lard ass comments.  Is saying “butt” really better?

Lard baby, Lard

So, as you can see, I made spice cookies…………with lard.  I’ve flavored the recipe title a bit.  From hence forward the recipe shall be known as the Big Lard MolAsses Cookies.

Since I’m such a bad cook, I created a “plan b” to put into effect if the cookies were inedible; thus, the Big Lard MolAsses Cookie Frisbee® was born.  I figured if the cookies bombed, The Mechanics and I could play Frisbee®  (I am expecting a phone call from Wham-O® any minute now).   The advertisements for the Big Lard MolAsses Cookie Frisbee®  would be fun eh?  A crackless MolAsses Frisbee®!

Making the cookies was easy except for the fact it took two years for me to pour one cup of molasses.

Brer Rabbit Molasses.........tick tock tick tock tick tock

While we’re waiting on it to pour, let me share a story with you. A few years ago I had to have a mole removed off of my butt (shhh…don’t tell anyone).  I had to leave work early for the procedure. Somehow, word got out among my coworkers what I was having done.  When I returned to work the next day, there was a bottle of molasses (get it? mole asses) sitting  in front of  the door to my office, Cubicle Caverns.  I work with some demented, but funny, people.  THE MOLASSES IS POURED!  BACK TO THE COOKIES!  The dough ended up resembling poop. With no scent of chocolate wafting through the air, I was hesitant to taste it.  In the spirit of my experimentation, however, I knew I had to be adventuresome and try it.  It was pretty decent!  I would rank it a 7 on the batter lick-ability scale.

With the batter licked and approved, I made the cookies.  Thankfully, they came out of the oven with great promise.  After eating one, then two, then three………..I knew they were presentable, so off to work we went.

The Mechanics approved of the cookies………..not an exuberant approval, but approval nevertheless.   While noshing on Big Lard MolAsses Cookies in Cubicle Caverns, the topic of lard prompted Kevin the Mechanic to launch into a diatribe about his time spent working at a meat-packing factory.  He went into gruesome detail about leading pigs to slaughter and drinking veal blood.  I’m now ready to be a vegetarian AND the president of Ladies Against Lard (LAL). Seriously.  My escape out of the pig-a-lating horror-story telling was to demand we go try out the aerodynamics of the Big Lard MolAsses Cookie Frisbee®.

The Lard-O Frisbee

The Mechanics test out the Big Lard MolAsses Cookie Frisbee®.

Look at that baby fly!!!!  A toy you can fling and then eat…………..yeah, I’m fixin’ to make the millions……………..AND CATCH A BIG LARD ASS HUSBAND!!! Woot.

Eisenhower Strawberry Pie: A Cure for the GOP?

Recipe Source: Shelbyville Times Gazette (reprint of recipe from unknown newspaper in Maryland)
Year: 1950s
Recipe: Strawberry Pie for a President
Music to cook by:  Let it Be

I have had no victories in the theater of war that is my kitchen since I started this project.  With my morale sunk deep in the mire of a soggy flour and butter coated battlefield, I needed help.  I needed a 5-star General to lead me into my next battle, my own personal D-Day.  I needed Ike, Dwight Eisenhower (one of my favorite presidents).

Pie for a President

 

Pessimism never won any battle! Preach it Ike.

I armed myself with the best strawberry artillery I could find and set out to face my own internal Normandy Beach.  Though this recipe didn’t come with pie crust instructions, I filled myself with a 1 1/4 cups of Eisenhower courage, or cheap Merlot as we call it in my house, and decided to attempt a pie crust.  It was a disaster of crust nuclear proportions.

Being a prepared soldier, however, I had stashed a store-bought crust among my battery of baking goods.  I brushed off my worries, signed a store-bought pie crust peace treaty, and tossed that bad boy into the oven.   Pessimism would not claim me as its victim.

With the pie crust defeat averted, it was time to mix up the pie filling.  The preparation went smoothly and my goal looked to be within target.  As I unloaded the strawberry mush into the crust, however, fear gripped me.  It was a fear I couldn’t shake and ended up taking to bed with me.  I had nightmares…………strawberry-zombie pie kind of nightmares. I awoke tired and filled with dread.  I had to face my Great Grandmother Experiment recipe judges, The Mechanics.

STRAWBERRY ZOMBIE PIE!!!!!!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEK.

Turns out my worries were unwarranted.

The official presidential pie presentation.

The pie was very good. Steve the Mechanic accused me of trying to pass off a Shoney’s pie as my own.  Ike’s pie was better than Shoney’s.    Though the pie was a big hit, the topic of conversation was focused more on the weaponry I had brought to cut the pie.

Cliff the Mechanic gasped when I pulled out my chosen knife to cut the inaugural piece.  He said,  “Jim Bowie ain’t got nothing on you.  You need to take that thing with you on your next date!  If things start going bad, you can say, ‘excuse me while I whip this out.’”  The conversation quickly disintegrated into a Lorena Bobbett joke exchange.  Mechanics.  Gotta love ‘em.

In the end, I think The Mechanics were relieved that  I had cooked something edible.  Like dedicated cheerleaders, they were still complimenting me the next day.

In preparation for this blog I spent time refreshing my knowledge of our 34th president.   A lot of his ideals, beliefs and policies are what I look for in presidential candidates.   The 2012 class of Republican candidates is sorely, and I mean SORELY, missing some crucial Eisenhoweristic characteristics. They just don’t make Republicans the way they use to.    Maybe I should offer the GOP some strawberry pie.

Thanks Ike for the lesson you have left us!  I would be mad crushing on you if I was a constituent in your day! :-)

“Peace, like all virtues, begins at home.” ~Eisenhower in Radio and Television Address, September 19, 1956

 

When Life Serves You Bran Bread For Invalids, Make Tiger Woods’s Balls…………golf balls that is

Recipe Source: Unknown Newspaper
Year:  early 1900s
Recipe: Bran Bread for Invalids
Music to cook by:  Chain of Fools

Bran Bread for Invalids (a doctor's prescription).......ummm.....yeah.

When I first saw this recipe, I knew I had to make it regardless of the ingredients gag factor (gag factor equal 10+).  I don’t think Martha, Rachel, OR Paula could make this recipe appealing as it was written.

Knowing that this recipe would, indeed, be a disaster I knew I had to be creative.  Thus, the bran bread for invalids golf ball was born.

When life serves you up bran bread for invalids, MAKE GOLF BALLS.

When life serves you bran bread for invalids, MAKE GOLF BALLS!

First off.  What exactly is an invalid?  When The Mechanics asked me what my next project was going to be,  I told them “bran bread for invalids.”  Cliff the Mechanic said, “Will I be able to walk again?”  My response was, “Judging by the recipe ingredients, I think you’ll just be able to poop again.”  He thought for a minute and said, “Well, I don’t have a problem with that.”  Cliff the Mechanic is obviously not an invalid.

When I first searched for a definition of “invalid,” I kept getting the “invalid” that rhymes with corn salad and no the “invalid” that rhymes with “fried squid.”  Apparently,  it is no longer politically correct to use  ”invalid” that rhymes with “fried squid” to describe a person with physical disabilities, old age, or constipation.

The recipe was easy enough minus the fact that I had no clue what oven temp to use and/or how long to bake it.  GOD WHY AM I DOING THIS????

Bran Bread for Invalids and Bran Bread Golf Balls (or Tiger woods balls..........shhhhhh did I say that?)

When I pulled the bran bread for invalids and brand bread for invalids golf balls out of the oven, everything looked good.  The devil in me said, “Hey!  Tiger Woods’s balls!”  shhhh.   Then I reminded myself, it’s not how they look…………it’s how they hit off of the TEEEEEE.    So, after a bit of cooling, off we went.

Golf Ball

Tiger Woods's ball on a tee! Look, there's a fly on it!

*

golf swang

FoRRReee!

The bran bread for invalids golf ball flew like a regular golf ball!!!!!!!  The only exception?  It left a really, really, really BIG divot in my lawn.  Somehow, I don’t think we’ll be seeing these in regulation play any time soon.   I know my neighbors think I’ve lost it.  They’re probably right.

After tucking my clubs away, I took the bran bread for invalids to work for the The Mechanics to taste.  It didn’t go well.  I think I hurt Kevin the Mechanic. He looked like a disgruntled crew member after one bite.  I may have made him an invalid instead of curing any invalidiosity hiding inside him.    I hope he doesn’t resign!

Chris the Mechanic looked at me suspiciously after taking the first bite and said, “I’m regular!  I go every morning at 5:03.”  I said, “GOOD! Let me know if you go at 4:03 tomorrow morning.  If you do, we’ll know that these babies are REALLY a cure for invalidity.”

Cliff the Mechanic was absent from work today.  I may have an update tomorrow. The Mechanics said they were going to tell Cliff how wonderful the bread was and lure him into eating this sawdust mouth trap.  I may intervene and insist that we need to do a putting test instead.  Cliff the Mechanic is the only mechanic I know that will lower himself to such an experiment (none of the other mechanics would bran bread for invalids golf with me….sigh).  That’s why I adore him and why he is a member of my crew!

I really miss my Grandmother and Great Grandmother.  I wish they were here to guide me!  I don’t think they’d approve of Tiger’s balls, however.