Kitsch-en Kounter: Cinco de Mayo CHURRIOS Burro

Have you ever created something that works out surprisingly well on your first try only to be foiled by over confidence in a subsequent attempt to recreate it?  Well, get ready...

During the holidays, I decided to exploit the possibilities of my
rabbit-shaped cake mold for a last-minute, potluck dessert.

When there is no time for a cake but there is a houseful of christmas cookies, assorted candies, and a box of Rice Krispies (more than likely generic), I feel like that charmed Chopped contestant who, instead of being afraid of the mystery basket's contents, realizes he is the only one who knows to remove the membrane from prairie oysters.

Rudolph the Red-Nosed Rice Krispies Reindeer - not
perfect but pretty solid for  an impromptu holiday treat!

Using a bread knife to saw chocolate-covered pretzel rods, I refashioned
them into antlers by melting the chocolate with a barbecue lighter and
"gluing" on the remaining pieces.  The ears are the neighbors' homemade
biscotti, the eyes are jordan almonds, and the details are rendered in
chocolate icing.  A snowy bed of coconut is dressed up with a few holiday
decoratifs.  The nose, of course, is a bright-red maraschino cherry!

As I never did a proper "Kitsch-en Kounter" post about Rudolph the Red-Nosed Rice Krispies Reindeer during the holidays, I felt it was acceptable to recycle the idea for Cinco de Mayo...but Rice Krispies seemed like old hat.  Then I remembered the small batch of marshmallow-Honey Nut-Cheerios (cough, store brand, cough) squares I made.  With a scant bag of Cheerios and the dregs of a marshmallow bag, I created a dessert from which we have coined the name "Churrios" for a flavor profile complimentary to that of Mexico's favorite donut stick!!!

The makings of Churrios!

It becomes acutely apparent that your father was an unusual man when your adult brother comes over for a visit and wants to "make a craft."  A lone picture exists of the one time that our dad tried to take us fishing, learning quickly that his sons were destined for different things. And so we found ourselves, two thirty-something brothers, not comatose in front of a football game, not parked at a sports bar, not playing video games, or concentrating on the contents of an automobile's engine compartment, rather brainstorming in the kitchen for ways to transform a Rice Krispies Rabbit/Reindeer into a Churrios Burro (Burr-io?).  By word and deed our dad encouraged ingenuity and creativity - culinary and otherwise - over what might be considered more masculine pursuits.  He was cool.

Included in our brainstorming session were ideas for presentation.
I quickly found one of my vintage Mexican tablecloths but immediately
became crestfallen when I  realized that I had recently discarded a bower
of paper flowers and even a mini Mexican flag...

In cooking, crafting, and sewing, my priority is always to make the most of what we have on hand.  With all the urgency of panicky usher seeking medical relief for a theater patron, I screamed, "Is there a miniature sombrero in the house?!!"  In a home where the answer to that query can come so rapidly in the affirmative, one might assume that there wasn't anything for which this project could go wanting; the Churrios Burro, however, required a very special trip to the store.

For what would a Churrios Burro be without some Chiclets and Bandera de Coco?

Nobody's immune to the chiclet-teeth Hollywood makeover!

A tad over-anxious, we un-molded the Churrios Burro before he was quite ready.  I made a cinnamon frosting with coconut milk to add some highlights/character but by the time our little Burrito was assembled, there was no time for superfluous adornments before he began to implode.

With dead M&M eyes, a blanket of flattened Bandera de Coco, a single, snaggle chiclet
tooth, and that miniature sombrero, our Churrios Burro had to hit his bed of Mexican-flag
coconut before he fell completely apart.

The lighting inside wasn't so hot; we wondered if a trip outside would improve the situation...

Clearly, it didn't...

This Churrios Burro is suffering from the dreaded "Cinco spread."
Our impatience combined with the large format of Cheerios might have
made the molded dessert a questionable choice BUT, because it still
tasted delicious, I will share the recipe without feeling like a total ASS!

CHURRIOS RECIPE

Ingredients:

1 stick of Butter

1 16 oz. Bag of Mini Marshmallows

1 17 oz. Box of Honey Nut Cheerios (or generic equivalent)

1/2 teaspoon Cinnamon

1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract

Cinnamon-Sugar for dusting

Directions:

In a heavy-bottomed dutch oven or stock pot, brown the butter (really, it makes a delicious difference).  When the butter is browned, add the entire bag of marshmallows and allow them to melt (stirring constantly).  Once the marshmallows are melted, remove the pot from the heat and stir in the cinnamon, vanilla, and cereal.  Press the combined mixture firmly into the mold of your choice.  Once set, remove the Churrios from the mold, sprinkle with cinnamon-sugar and decorate for your chosen holiday extravaganza.

But be patient before un-molding or he'll never be able to say "Heeyaw, Heeyaw, Heeyaw!"

"The Donkey Serenade" - Glenn Miller with The Andrews Sisters (1940)

Feliz Cinco de Mayo!!!  Now go make an ass of for yourself!


Cheer-ios!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: O Krisp-mas Tree, O Krisp-mas Tree

Am I on Pinterest?  Yes.  Am I positive that I understand the intended purpose of Pinterest?  Not so much.  At face value, I think it is an ingenious way to electronically organize and store useful bits of information that would otherwise clog my years-old, unbacked-up hard drive and/or perpetuate that archaic process of tearing pages out of magazines.  In action, I see that it is just another way of wasting time online while simultaneously making me feel equal parts self-important and hopelessly inadequate.  Inadequate not simply because it is hard to imagine living up to the professional-quality photos of clever crafters lit beautifully by perfectly-diffused afternoon sunlight, rather because I am pinning neither as often nor as well as I should.  Seriously, you don't want to be inside my head when I launch into a neurotic inner-monologue about how I don't have enough pins, how the pins I do have aren't cool enough, and how I can't re-pin other people's pins because then I would just look like a dirty copycat.  It is entirely possible that I have problems much greater than Pinterest.

My biggest issue with Pinterest is that it proves the saying, "There is nothing new under the sun."  When struck with the "best idea in the whole wide world," I have been known to check Pinterest to make sure that mine is a wholly original one.  Inevitably, I learn that the pancake layer-cake has been done far earlier and far better than I could ever do.  After so many Pinterest-induced disappointments, I abandoned this practice - much like I had abandoned so many of my "original" ideas.  Just because somebody somewhere else in the world had come up with the same brilliant idea didn't mean that I hadn't experienced my own brush with brilliance, right?  Two bolts of lightning can strike distant points on a map without diminishing the electrifying brilliance of each other, am I right?

Brilliance often begins with Rice Krispies (or puffed rice, or "Crispy Rice" cereal
product, or whatever generic label suits your fancy).  It just so happens that the
real deal was on sale and less expensive than the store brand - Christmas miracle!  

It is always a challenge at holiday time to come up with something to take to the never-ending series of potlucks.  On a side note: the occasional potluck can be a real kick but what ever happened to throwing a party and just allowing your guests to be guests?  Call me old-fashioned, but sometimes I want to just show up at a party without having to bring the entire party with me (hostess gift, hors d'oeuvres, white elephant gift, ornament for the ornament exchange, two-dozen cookies, and ugly Christmas sweater).  In many ways, I am such a control freak that the thought of someone bringing something unexpected to a party I had so carefully planned would be enough to send me into a tailspin.  Like I said, my issues extend far beyond Pinterest and potlucks!

Charged with bringing "something to share" to a holiday party this year, I knew I needed a dish that would be easy, that would travel well, and that would bring a spark of seasonal drama to the heavy-laden buffet table.  I needed to make something that would snap, crackle, and - dare I say it - pop!  With Rice Krispies at the ready and a pantry full of staples like mini-marshmallows and green food coloring, I started farming my very own Rice Krisp-mas Tree!

Nestled on a bed of newly-driven coconut snow, the Rice Krisp-mas Tree
 is adorned with cinnamon candies and dusted with powdered sugar.  Designed
to be a pull-apart finger food, the tree felt like it was missing something... 

I almost forgot the topper, a Krisp-mas star!

Although, the real star of this show is probably the chenille-stem,
spun head snowman and his cheery, cherry-red top hat!

Just like a real one, even the most perfect tree on the lot needs a bit of trimming after it survives the ride home on the roof of the car.  After trimming the excess away from the graduated layers, notching out the branches, and several rounds of sampling , there were still more than a few scraps.

Ignoring the admonition to not play with my food, some of the scraps
turned into the perfect pretzel-shaped Krisp-mas mask for Santa!

Even if there are already 1,000 similar examples, there will be room for one more Rice Krisp-mas Tree on Pinterest by the time this post is published!  Hopefully it will have everyone singing, "O Krisp-mas Tree."

"O Christmas Tree (O Tannenbaum)" - Vince Guaraldi Trio

Be sure to check out Mr. Tiny's Pinterest page for other Kitsch-en Kounter ideas and to feel good about how superior your pinning is!  What are you taking to your holiday potlucks this year?


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: Tricky Dick's Irish Trifle

St. Patrick's Day always makes me wonder what the Irish think of our antics - the mad rush for corned beef brisket, the boiled cabbage, the marshmallows and instant pistachio pudding...  That's part of everyone's St. Paddy's dinner menu, right?  Well, it always is at our March 17 festivities.

Among the many other offerings that have little-to-nothing to do with genuine Irish cuisine, a healthy concoction of non-dairy whipped topping, pistachio pudding, crushed pineapple, and marshmallows that we so cleverly refer to as "Green Fluff" takes pride of place next to the dyed-green beverages and other obligatory St. Patrick's Day staples.

"Green Fluff"
While recipes vary, this is the basic ratio that we generally use:
1 - 8oz. tub of non-dairy whipped topping, 1- 10 oz. can of crushed pineapple,
1 - 3.4 oz. package of instant pistachio pudding mix, 1 1/2 Cups of mini marshmallows.
(In a stroke of further Irish fakery, I added some shredded coconut because I had a little left in the pantry)

In looking up information on the origins of this dessert (my grandmother was creative but with a blender absent from the necessary tools for this recipe, I knew it couldn't have been born of her imagination), I discovered that Green Fluff is an American creation of 1970's pedigree, better known by its era-appropriate moniker, "Watergate Salad" (leave it to our great nation to define something with negative nutritional value as a salad).

Kraft Foods lays claim to the creation of Watergate Salad but I like to believe the version of events that gives credit to a crafty sous-chef at Washington, D.C.'s own Watergate Hotel...yes, that Watergate Hotel.  Upon further investigation, I learned that there was also a recipe for a pistachio-pudding-based Watergate Cake.  As if Watergate Salad wasn't scandalous enough, my favorite one-liner about the cake is that it has "a cover-up frosting and is full of nuts."

Mmmmmm...green cake.
Much like the salad recipe, recipes for the cake have slight variations but are at their
core an easy combination of pre-made ingredients - cake mix, pudding mix, soda pop.
To unify the flavor profile, I added some drained, crushed pineapple to the mix.

wacky tacky is proud to remain politically-neutral on most occasions; as Richard Nixon's name generally elicits discussions of corruption and unsavory political practices, we thought it would be more fun to implicate him in the sweetness of our own culinary crimes.  Combining the frothiness of Watergate Salad with the green glory of Watergate Cake, we imbued our St. Patrick's Day dessert with the spirit of President Nixon (of Irish descent on both sides of his family) and created "Tricky Dick's Irish Trifle."

"Tricky Dick's Irish Trifle"
I am ever tempted to elevate kitschy recipes by upgrading ingredients (real
whipped cream, freshly-shelled pistachios, etc.) and implementing more
finesse.  It is then that I remember the old saying, "That would just be putting
lipstick on a pig."  And everyone knows, a fresh-faced pig is the purdiest pig.
Therefore, I just load on the inappropriate toppings like gummy lime wedges
and pearly-green Sixlets.

"I am not a crook!"
This kid can handle his scandal.
Once he deemed it edible, everyone
 dug into dessert with gusto!

Seriously, one taste of Tricky Dick's Irish Trifle and you'll be ready to chase the snakes out of the Emerald Isle, swim in a green river, exchange strands of plastic beads (since when was SPD reduced to Irish Mardi Gras?), and enjoy all of the other "traditional" activities for which St. Patrick's Day should be celebrated.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!!!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: Neapolitan Treats

I love looking through old magazines.  I was fortunate enough to inherit some of my great-grandmother's collection of magazines including many McCall's and Collier's from the late forties and early fifties.  I treasure these veritable time capsules that still bear her name and address so much that they have gone with me wherever I have moved.  Endless inspiration is to be found by simply thumbing through the dog-eared pages and with every turn of the page I have taken mental notes on the fashion, the interiors and even the food!  Sometimes the recipes culled from the pages of these publications seem like a menu designed for prisoners of war, kidnappers, and especially-disruptive, early-morning landscapers.  I can see the artistry and the ingenuity behind the recipes.  I can see the endless possibilities for pimento olives.  I can see these recipes as part of the wacky tacky landscape and therefore I wanted to try my hand at making something that could be worthy of a home on the pages of these magazines.

Growing up, my dad's favorite ice cream flavor was neapolitan.  He always loved mixing flavors and the classic chocolate, vanilla, strawberry combination that neapolitan offered him was an ice cream dream come true.  When he would buy it for the family, however, the carton would invariably end up as a stripe of vanilla surrounded by two voids where the chocolate and strawberry once resided.  My brother still considers vanilla to be "plain."  Inspired by the recipes of vintage magazines and my dad's favorite flavor  story I decided to create neapolitan "marshmallow rice squares."  I would say Rice Krispie Treats, but in the interest of full disclosure, I not only used generic marshmallows, I used store-brand
"Crispie Rice Cereal" - both regular and cocoa-flavored.  I decided that the obvious finishing touch was a dunk in chocolate.

Clearly, I am no food stylist.  The way a food looks in my imagination doesn't always translate directly to the finished product.  Furthermore, the way that the photos look in my head versus the way the photos turn out is very telling about my photography skills as well.  Nevertheless, the finished product was tasty and left room for fine-tuning in the next batch.  Although I'm not sure that I would have pleased the editors of Collier's.

My next food challenge is to take a real recipe from a vintage magazine and see if my family will actually eat it!  Bon appetit!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny