Kitsch-en Kounter: Laura Petrie's Famous Avocado-Peanut Butter Dip

After innumerable viewings of The Dick Van Dyke Show, what once seemed bizarre and mildly-repulsive has started to sound vaguely appetizing.  In an episode entitled "All About Eavesdropping," the Petries engage in a one-way battle with their best friends and neighbors, the Helpers, after unintentionally overhearing a private conversation conveyed via a child's intercom.  Feelings are hurt when Millie considers the possibility that Laura left out the secret ingredient (mustard) when sharing  her prized recipe for avocado-peanut butter dip.  Wait a minute - AVOCADO-PEANUT BUTTER DIP?!?!!

We would tell you how good it is but our tongues
are permanently stuck to the roofs of our mouths.
(Source)

What was certainly no more than a writers-room spoof on mid-century foodstuffs has become a years-long source of fascination and dialogue for the members of my family.  Finally deciding to research such recipes, we discovered that the only thing yielded by Google was other inquisitive DVD Show enthusiasts searching for the "real" avocado-peanut butter dip recipe.  So, in answer to their queries and to my own, I decided to write an original recipe for Laura Petrie's Famous Avocado-Peanut Butter Dip.  After all, I like peanut butter and I LOVE avocado; this was going to be a home-run!  I mean, how hard could it be; the key ingredients are listed right there in the title!

Living smack-dab in the middle of avocado country, we believe that nature's miracle fruit goes with/on everything!

I started by mashing the avocado and blending in a small amount of peanut butter but it was obvious that there was more to this gastronomic delight.  The only real clue to additional ingredients offered by the show is that mustard is key to the dip's success; thinking about the rich, velvety texture of avocado and the stodgy, fatty nature of peanut butter, it only makes sense that something acidic, like mustard, would be needed to lighten the heavy load.

It also occurred to me that lemon juice might brighten things up, balanced by the sweetness of a little
honey.  To add some drama, I sprinkled in a dash of cayenne pepper along with some salt and pepper.

If the ingredient list to Laura Petrie's Famous Avocado Peanut-Butter Dip isn't enough to turn your stomach, then the color must be.

Somewhere between the yellow mustard and the cayenne pepper, the dip's
resemblance to infant excrement was advancing at much too alarming a rate.

I had even considered adding some pressed garlic to the mix but good sense got the better of me.  In every Kitsch-en Kounter experiment, there is a time when the chef must be honest with himself; nothing was going to make this better.  Although I hate wasting food, it felt good to answer the question, "Is Avocado Peanut Butter Dip real?"  Yes, Virginia, Laura Petrie's Famous Avocado Peanut-Butter Dip is real - really disgusting.  Nevertheless, I feel compelled to share the recipe, one that might be better referred to as "schlock-amole," with my Kitsch-en Kounter Kulinary Kadets.

Laura Petrie's Famous Avocado-Peanut Butter Dip
We even found "Corn Curlies" with which to serve the dip - never mind that they're nacho-cheese flavor.

Laura Petrie's Famous Avocado-Peanut Butter Dip
(this can be made in quantities, but I wouldn't recommend it)

1 Large Avocado (pitted and mashed)
1 Tablespoon of Creamy Peanut Butter
1/4 teaspoon Yellow Mustard
1 Dash of Cayenne Pepper (this recipe is bordering on a health cleanse)
1 teaspoon Honey
Juice of 1 Lemon
Salt & Pepper to taste (although the taste is not going to get any better, trust me)

Blend all ingredients until smooth.  Serve with Corn Curlies, Wheat Whippies, Peanut Pippies, and/or Potato Poopies.  You are more than welcome to adjust the amounts and play with other ingredients but, as I said, it's never going to be good.  Believe me, "if you see it in the [wacky tacky], it is so."


This was a true Kitsch-en Kounter adventure that actually found success in its failure.  We learned (to our chagrin) that avocado doesn't always improve the taste of everything.  We also learned, for the benefit of all who wondered, that Laura Petrie's Famous Avocado Peanut-Butter Dip was indeed just a writers-room joke - and the joke is squarely on us.  "Oh, Roooooob!"

The Dick Van Dyke Show - "All About Eavesdropping" pt. I

The Dick Van Dyke Show - "All About Eavesdropping" pt. II

As we head into potluck season, instead of loading down the buffet table with yet another cheese ball or nonchalantly setting down the seventh store-bought platter of lifeless crudités, why not thrill partygoers by making Laura Patrie's Famous Avocado-Peanut Butter Dip?  Even if it tastes terrible, it is bound to keep everyone's coats nice and glossy - and they'll thank you for that!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: The Love Shack!

One word that I make a conscious effort to use as infrequently as possible is "obsessed."  Hosting exchange students in our house quite regularly, most of them Japanese, I learned how bizarre it was to them when we we would so freely express our love - of bagels, of TV shows, of shoes, of songs, of weather, of hair products, of sunglasses, of almost anything except one another.  It is my understanding that the word for love in Japanese is reserved exclusively for only its most romantic definition; it therefore must have seemed particularly odd when I would jubilantly proclaim, "I LOVE hamburgers!"  Some romances never die.  

These days, it isn't enough to like something.  It isn't even enough to love something.  To prove the fervor of our 21st-Century commitment to trends, movements, and inanimate objects, we must say that we're OBSESSED!!!  Well, occasionally, I fall victim to the vernacular and find myself obsessed with something, in this case, Betty Crocker's New Boys and Girls Cook Book.

Betty Crocker's New Boys and Girls Cookbook

Originally published in 1957 and printed many times since, Betty Crocker's Boys and Girls Cookbook was among the first to acknowledge the interest of a burgeoning youth population to participate in the kitchen.  The edition that I grew up with, the new edition, was published in 1965 with edits, updates, and a new crop of "home-testers."  When my grandmother would pull this book from the uppermost kitchen cabinet, we knew that we were in for a self-styled treat - mostly because she was probably so sick of looking after four rambunctious kids that she knew the only way to take a break was to sacrifice her freshly Pine-Sol'ed linoleum and unleash us on her immaculate kitchen of lime-green formica.

For what seemed like hours, my brothers and sister and I would pore over the images of party-cut sandwiches, Hawaiian Luau Loaf, clown-faced hamburgers, and - my favorite - the soda fountain drinks served in all manner of old-timey glassware.  We spent so much time deciding what to make that I honestly can't recall if we ever actually made anything (crafty Grandma).  Year after year, I have returned to this book for inspiration, for nostalgia, and for a gateway to my grandparents.  The book makes frequent cameos in conversations with my siblings, mostly as we wax nostalgic and wonder who the keeper of the book is (I guess I'm letting the cat out of the bag).  At this point in its fifty-year history, the book's pages are spattered, dog-eared, and torn.  The back cover is missing and the rusty spiral binding could more accurately be described as barbed wire.  Well worn and well loved, it is a physical manifestation of the kitschy culinary obsessions that blossomed in Mr. Tiny's earliest years.  Way beyond both the limits of our food-styling abilities and the limits of Grandma's patience, one particular recipe in the book very tragically went ever unmade.  Having dreamt of the Enchanted Castle Cake since childhood is proof that an unmade recipe can become the fodder for a lifelong obsession.

Enchanted Castle Cake

"My father took a picture of me with my cake."
Oh, Joan, it was probably because he wanted to capture that lovely
asymmetrical haircut you received at the Braille Beauty College.

With its red/white/pink color story, this recipe made like Cupid, drawing back its bow and shooting straight to this cake lover's heart.  With cake in our hearts and hearts in our eyes, the Enchanted Castle became our Valentine's Day Kitsch-en Kounter project for 2015.  I, of course, terribly bored with the tedium of printed instructions, immediately went rogue.  Even at my advanced age, an entire castle seemed rather daunting; we would take our cake in the direction of something more romantic, more intimate, and more cost-conscious.  Something that, if you saw a faded sign by the side of the road, you'd be more than willing to drive fifteen miles to share in its sweet delight. 

A LOVE SHACK!!!
Humble of both address and architecture (cake-itecture?),
the Love Shack is just a little old place where we can get together.

Starting with a tried-and-true, basic cake recipe, I figured it would be easy to adapt
 into a heart-shaped cake that was also colored in an appropriately-thematic fashion.

I had never before made a red velvet cake and, as it happens, I still haven't.
By the third heaping tablespoon of red gel food coloring, I just couldn't
stomach anymore.  "Maybe it will magically turn red in the oven..."  It didn't.
Incidentally, I just watched someone make a red-velvet cake on TV today
and they used two whole bottles of liquid food coloring!!!  No thanks.

Taking style cues from the Enchanted Castle Cake, I added iced ice-cream-cone spires; swirled in pink confection, they were topped with heart-spangled banners waving from heart-shaped picks.  A polka-dot red carpet welcomes lovers under an awning supported by paper straws.  The edifice is paneled in candy-stripe sticks and studded in pink, candy buttons.  Surrounded by coconut grass and a blue velvet sky, the sweetly-scaled Love Shack is to the Enchanted Castle Cake as Marie Antoinette's little Hamlet is to the Palace of Versailles.  The Love Shack became the perfect finishing touch to our humble Valentine's Day tablescape.

As a child, my favorite part of the book was the possibility, the dream that artfully playing with my food could one day become a legitimate avocation.  As an adult, with easy access to a car/grocery store/kitchen, my favorite parts of Betty Crocker's New Boys and Girls Cook Book are the juvenile "home-testers'" reactions to helping with the book and testing the recipes (see Joan above) accompanied by the lovely, sometimes-flattering charcoal portraits.

"Being a home-tester was the most exciting thing I've ever done." - Randee (What a pity to peak so young)
"I learned how to use a sharp knife - without cutting myself." - Sandra (A recurring theme at Sandra's therapy sessions)
"We learned what words like baste and fold and beat meant." - Peter (Definitely the words of a serial killer)
Betty Crocker is like a real friend to me now." - Carol (You said it, Carol.  Imaginary friends are the best friends)

So, what are your obsessions?  Are you obsessed with making a Love Shack of your own?  Don't let Mr. Shakespeare fool you into thinking that "music be the food of love."  It's cake.  Yes, definitely cake.  So, if you're heading down the Atlanta highway and see our heart-shaped shack, just "Bang, bang, bang on the door, baby."  We'll let you in and save you a piece!

"Love Shack" - The B-52's

Happy Valentine's Day, you wacky tacky turkey necks!!!

Cheers!

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: Thanksgiving Leftover Luncheon Loaf

I'm going to cut to the chase; I don't really care for Thanksgiving food.  Call me un-American, but it all just seems so...cooked (like thrice-baked and covered in gravy).  My oh-so-casual attempts to fool my family into an alternative menu are thwarted at every turn; "Hey, gang!  How's about we have a taco bar and make-your-own Jell-O station on Thursday?  Sounds pretty neat, huh?"  But no dice.  Who knew I was related to so many traditional-type sticks in the mud?!!

Over a lifetime, the fatty within (and without) has tried to convince me that Thanksgiving food is both good and worth all the effort, but at this age and stage I am finally willing to live in my truth; I will give you a hundred Thanksgiving feasts for just one 4th-of-July BBQ!  Don't get me wrong.  It's not that I abstain from the bounty of the Thanksgiving table but I am far from inclined to overindulge on turkey and dressing; any average Wednesday afternoon will find me much more in need of elasticized trousers.  What I do love, however, is leftovers.  Within the remainder of chilled, uneaten scraps I find an endless source of creative culinary possibilities.  Even in the dull, grey leftovers of Thanksgiving food, I see a turkey transformation just waiting to happen.

As in all things, I find inspiration in my Kitsch-en Kounter forebears. 

It seems that Turkey Tetrazzini is so retro that it has become "now-tro" and therefore "out-ro" by Kitsch-en Kounter standards.  I decided to turn the flotsam and jetsam of our Thanksgivings past into "Thanksgiving Leftover Luncheon Loaf."  I'm pretty sure that a wise man once said, "We eat with our ears first."  And what sounds more appetizing than "Leftover loaf?"

I had my materials.  I had my inspiration.  Who knew that in creating this sweet-and-savory, layered delight that the hardest part would be finding pristine bread unmarred by an automatic slicing machine?  Two bakeries and four grocery stores later, I couldn't find a single loaf not already cut to ribbons.  The pendulum of preferences in baked goods has swung so far in one direction that now we'll laud the latest marvel by saying, "That's the greatest thing since unsliced bread!"  Eventually, I had to settle for a trimmed-down boule (#wackytackyworldproblems).  Once I had the bread situation under control, it was time to fulfill my obligation to the fillings.

Layer 1: Turkey Salad (leftover turkey, apples, almonds, dried cranberries, and tarragon)

Layer 2: Dressing

Is there an angle from which leftover dressing becomes photogenic?
If so, I haven't found it.  Our family recipe for sage dressing includes
onions, apples, dried cranberries, dried apricots, and roasted pecans.

Layer 3: Cranberry Sauce
I stabilized the homemade cranberry sauce with a bit of cream cheese.

Even the fattiest fatty would have second thoughts about frosting his sandwich but it wouldn't be a layer cake of a sandwich without the unsweetened icing and some decorative finishing touches.  Taking style cues from the antique Thanksgiving greeting above, I made a rather primitive, if altogether edible, turkey out of a mushroom, a red bell pepper, almonds, a carrot, and a single clove.  The pumpkins are made of apricots and flat leaf parsley.  

A bird's eye view
Nesting on a bed of parsley, I only wish I could have surrounded the
Thanksgiving Leftover Luncheon Loaf with hard-boiled turkey eggs!

A cross section of the Thanksgiving Leftover Luncheon Loaf
and the Pecan Praline Pumpkin Bread made for dessert.
As they say, one good loaf deserves another!

Thinking that by adding a few fresh herbs and a loaf of bread I had somehow reduced the richness of Thanksgiving dinner is probably one of my greatest delusions.  In the chance to rework the leftovers of what is my least favorite meal of the year, however, I found something in all of that heavy food for which I am truly thankful.  Maybe next year I'll just make turkey jerky!

"Jerky Turkey" (1945)

Tell the truth, have you ever frosted your sandwich?  What is the best thing you've ever made out of leftovers?  How will you celebrate Thanksgiving this year?  We think that wherever one may live in the world, it is never a bad idea to reflect upon those things for which one is particularly grateful.  Mr. Tiny is especially thankful for his family and his family of wacky tacky turkey necks.  Thanks for your love, loyalty, and support!!! 

From all of us to all of you, a very Happy Thanksgiving!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: Apple Pie Without Cheese Is Like A Kiss Without A Squeeze

As I am like to do, I was recently watching a rerun of I Love Lucy in which Lucy offers Fred a slice of apple pie with a "big ol' hunk of cheese" on it.  I was immediately reminded of the saying that has been handed down through generations of my mom's family, "Apple pie without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze."  Very much akin to, "They go together like bacon & eggs," apple pie and cheddar cheese used to be such an ordinary and inseparable flavor profile that it had its own saucy little epigram.  Somehow, somewhere along the line, cheese lost out to its oh so à la mode cousin, à la mode (since when did a scoop of ice cream become so fashionable?).  How, in such a short time, did what was once so commonplace become completely forgotten to the contemporary palate?  Why, I wonder, did this all-American culinary combo fall so far out of f(l)avor?

Immortalized in a 1956 ad for Miss Wisconsin Cheddar
Cheese, the long-lost dynamic duo of desserts
(Source)

The only eatery I've ever visited that offers the apple pie/cheese taste sensation is the world-famous Du-Par's (serving the Los Angeles area for over 75 years).  Just out of high school, on our very first visit to  The Original Farmers Market location, my friends and I were receiving less-than-stellar service from a crusty, old waitress who had been slinging hash for the better part of her 100 years and wasn't about to waste any charm on a bunch of snotty-nosed bad-tippers (a valid supposition, I guess).  After ignoring our table for the entirety of our meal, she came to present the bill and ask in a bitter monotone if we had "saved any room for dessert."  One member of our party who had been looking at the dessert offerings bellowed in disgust, "Yech, apple pie with cheese?!?!?!!!"  Before the waitress could use the rest of her limited strength to lunge across the table and strangle my dining companion, I jumped in with, "Of course!  My mom always said, 'Apple pie without cheese is like a kiss without a squeeze'" (I've always been a bit of a brown-noser).  The change in countenance between the wizened, old waitress and the newly-beatific server was staggering as she quickly became my new best friend.  Knowing all too well the classic pie pairing, she was thrilled to learn a new saying (one that she could use to boost sales), that she brought us a free piece of pie - with cheese!

Tis the season for all things apple, so Mr. Tiny went apple picking (picking the
best apples from the giant apple mound at the grocery totally counts) with pie in mind.
Using a mix of Fuji and Granny Smith apples, I quickly learned why pie seems like
such a special-occasion treat -  peeling and slicing a bushel of apples stinks!

How though, beyond serving the most pedestrian of pies with a single sliver of cheddar cheese, could I recreate the classic American sweet-and-savory dessert dynamo?  It didn't take long before I realized that the king of all cheese crackers would be the perfect vehicle for such a long-awaited flavor reunion.  Like so many times before, it was Cheez-It to the rescue!

I had heard of a Depression-era, mock-apple pie where Ritz crackers actually served as apple proxy; thinking that a similar technique (resulting in a mouth full of cinnamon-sugar soaked Cheez-Its) might be a bit much, I changed direction and ground the crackers to a fine crumb.

Never having made a proper pie before in my life, I waffled between using cheese cracker crumbs for the pie crust or creating a cheesy crumb topping.  Lousy at decision making, I decided to do both - that's right, cheesy apple pie two ways!!!

The evolution of pie
Using a traditional bottom crust and filling, I made a
Dutch Apple Pie with a Cheez-It/pecan crumble topping. 

Introduced in 1921, the Cheez-Its imparted a subtle-yet-solid cheese flavor to the Dutch Apple Pie (are you listening Netherlands?  I've improved your namesake pie!).  While I thought this creation was both tasty and mildly clever, the pie was neither quite as impactful nor as wacky tacky as I knew we could get.  C'mon Cheez-Its, don't fail me now!

I made the base of the second pie in the same fashion as a graham-cracker
crust, using instead Cheez-It crumbs and only a scant amount of sugar.

This pie was filled with the same traditional filling as the first and baked, tented in foil so the apples would not dry out.  After it cooled, it was piled high with homemade, cinnamon whipped cream.  I don't know if it is smart or insanely masochistic to constantly make desserts to which I am highly intolerant (dairy is most assuredly not my friend).

Wanting to get a little fancy and invite a bit of genuine cheese to these pie proceedings,
I made crispy, cheddar cheese/parmesan tuiles to decorate the top of the pie.

With plenty of pie on hand and a favorite cousin visiting from Texas (Yeehaw! Cuzzin Bobbi!!!), the only logical thing to do was throw an impromptu dinner party.

Cuzzin Bobbi, Nick, Cynthia, Lauren, Mr. Tiny, and Mary (taking the photo)
gathered around the old, family table to break bread.  But dinner was a mere
formality, dessert was definitely the star of this show.

With a diverse range of palates surrounding the table, the results as to which pie was best were decidedly mixed.  Lauren, an inveterate "I don't like my food to touch" purist, favored the Dutch Apple Pie.  Cynthia, a world-class extreme eater with adventurous taste buds, gave the prize to the cheese tuiles and Cheez-It crust.  I was so interested in finding out what everyone else thought, that I didn't do my own small sampling until everyone was gone and the dishes were washed.  I love a good mix of sweet/salty/savory and without sounding too self-satisfied, I think the cheese crust is the definite winner!  It's genius inspired everyone at the table to think of other applications for a Cheez-It crust (sweet and savory).

Say "CHEESE!"
The winner, Mr. Tiny and the pie

In any event, after samplings were made of each pie, we collectively came to know the true meaning behind the phrase, "Apple pie without [Cheez-It] is like a kiss without a squeeze [it]!"  Great, now I'm thinking of ways to combine cheese crackers with that sugary, wax-bottled beverage of my youth (remember Squeezits - the drinks that only the cool kids had in their lunches, clearly explaining why I never had one in my lunch?).

Surrounded by loved ones and a bounty of cheesy-apple-pie goodness, I realized that, much like Johnny Appleseed, "the Lord is good to me."  In turn, I feel like I am good to the Sunshine Biscuit Company for giving them a brand new lease on their delicious "baked snack cracker."  In an effort to pay it all forward, I share with you what will undoubtedly become the centerpiece of your holiday festivities.  Give your family what they want this holiday season - Jesus, cheeses, and squeezes!!!

"The Lord is Good to Me" - from Walt Disney's Johnny Appleseed 

Performed by Dennis Day

Are you a Cheez-It fan?  Have you ever had apple pie with cheese?  Did your parents/grandparents hand down the "cheese/squeeze" saying in your family?  Is the apple pie/cheese combo still going strong where you live?  What's the weirdest dessert you've ever concocted (we want to try it)?


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: We Have a Wiener (Dog)!!!

As proven by our Mexican Corn Dogs (a questionable take on tamales), it is nigh impossible to improve on the perfection of the classic corn dog.  Nevertheless, in all of my foolhardiness, I keep on trying.

Last weekend I was invited to an "Edible Atrocities" potluck birthday party where each guest was asked to bring a dish inspired by the kooky culinary traditions of 20th-Century American cookery.  Instead of referencing my shelf of vintage cookbooks, I decided to explore that well-known black hole of bizarre ideas, my own brain.  The very last thing in the world that I like to do is waste food; I knew I had to make something that was both bizarre and, hopefully, crowd-pleasing.  What's more crowd-pleasing than corn dogs?

What's more edible than that all-American pantry staple, Jiffy Cornbread Mix?
 "Quality and Value since 1930!" 

And what's more atrocious than CHEESY WEENIES?!?!!
"Nutrition facts:" none.

After considering the options for a corn dog casserole, it was clear that a 9x13" pan was not going to cut the mustard.  It is oft said that we eat with our eyes first; shape is always important and a circle is always appealing - think donut, burger, cookies, pizza, all the best foods.

I realized that I had pans brownie, cake, springform, angel food, loaf, glass, non-stick, etc.  The one gaping hole in my pan-theon of baking pans was a one with a gaping hole; I needed a ring/bundt-type pan.  A quick trip to the thrift store on half-price day was the answer to my kitsch-en kounter prayers - a steel steal at 50¢!

It was at this moment that I considered the possibility that I might have
overfilled the pan.  Instead of panicking, I just gave myself a pat on the
back for putting everything on a lined cookie sheet!

After a bit of clean-up and cooling time, this corn dog creation was nearly award ready.
Next stop, the "Wiener's Circle!!!"

Of course, a simple ring was a little too tame for the type of party people that this savory corn cake was going to feed.  The "edible" box had been ticked, it was time to tackle "atrocious."  The corn-dog casserole needed a puppy personality and the obvious direction was dachshund, a wiener-dog wiener dog!!!

Using golden potatoes and black olives, I made a simple dog face that
ended up reminding me more than a little bit of Gromit. 

Atop a bed of curly parsley, chasing its roasted-potato tail on potato-wedge feet around
a bowl of honey-mustard glaze, this Golden Wiener Ring pup was prepped to party!

While the Golden Cheesy Weenie Ring is not necessarily what I would hold up as a "Kitsch-en Kounter" best, I feel fortunate that failure really wasn't an option when "atrocity" was the desired outcome.  The only real failure was that, at the last minute, with the Golden Wiener Dog on the leash and ready to go, some silly circumstances precluded my attendance at the party.  Talk about wasting food - I wasn't about to eat this junk!!!  Hahaha!!!

Well, who wants leftovers?  Do you like corn dogs?  Have you ever experimented with crazy mid-century recipes?  Have you been brave enough to eat the results?


Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

Kitsch-en Kounter: I Heart Independence Party Pie!

In this age of wine snobs, cheese snobs, beer snobs, and serious gourmands whose only culinary credibility stems from countless hours spent watching "Chopped" marathons on The Food Network, I have happily embraced the credo, "I'm a fatty not a foodie."  It isn't that I lack appreciation for quality ingredients prepared in a skillful manner, it's that I've never encountered an artisanal, house-made catsup that can stand up to the classic, everyman's ketchup.  Put simply, "foodie" is highbrow and highbrow ain't my brow.

Okay, so maybe this makes me a ketchup snob???
(Source)

I knew I was a hardcore fatty after a recent reminder that in high school the currency in which I dealt was hamburgers.  When I needed a ride or a favor, there were at least three people I knew who I could easily bribe with a 99¢ fast food hamburger.  Even out shopping I could more easily determine the value of something by forgetting dollars and cents and asking myself, "Is this really worth ten value-menu hamburgers;" it very rarely was.  Fortunately, my tastes have matured and fast food has all but been eliminated from my life.  Nevertheless, I feel that the brilliant tutelage I received from my internal economics professor left me with the understanding of the true value of a hamburger....er, dollar.  It is no small wonder then that my keen sense of food and home economics encourages the regular utilization of a wacky tacky foodstuff that provides more bang for the buck and more bounce to the ounce than any other paltry pantry item, namely Jell-O!

J-E-L-L-OOOOOO!!!!
Coming at you in True Stereo 3Dimension!!!!!
It must be said that I am not a fan of anything blue-flavored
(who's ever heard of a blue raspberry???) but, when making a
4th of July dessert, one must adhere to an extremely-rigid color code!

Our Betty Crocker ColorVision Cake, our Tricky Dick's St. Patrick's Day Trifle, and our Lobster Gelatin Mold all made the most of Jell-O's signature flavor, color, and jiggle!  With America's Independence Day upon us, it was up to me to make a dessert that would celebrate all the history of our great nation and all of my homespun, fatty sensibilities; there was no question that Jell-O would be involved.  When I stumbled upon a vintage recipe for "Stained Glass Cake," I knew that with a few minor adjustments I would have a firework-level flavor explosion worthy of the 4th of July!

The first adjustment was to the name of the dessert; a graham cracker
crust filled with a creamy Jell-O confection definitely read more pie
than cake.  This was an Independence Party Pie!  The second adjustment
was the shape of the dessert; I love America and the only way to show it
was with a heart-shaped springform pan...or maybe the circular springform
that was lurking in the furthest recesses of the cupboard was rustily singing,
"'Spring' Will Be A Little Late This Year"....

For as simple as Jell-O seems, it can actually be a tricky medium in which to work when multiple colors and textures are involved.  Furthermore, this recipe called for pineapple juice, which any Jell-O aficionado knows is a big Jell-NO!  I learned that, when heated beyond a certain temperature, the naturally-occurring agents in fresh pineapple/pineapple juice that inhibit the gelatinous properties of Jell-O become inactive - crisis averted!  And still, this Independence Party Pie required much more tempering, folding, congealing, and general babysitting than most Kitsch-en Kounter food experiments; removing the whole thing from the heart-shaped springform pan was actually the easiest part!

Independence Party Pie!
It looked pretty good but was it worth the effort?

As usual, my food styling skills leave a little to be desired, but it
received a rating of five sparklers out of five from the National
Pyrotechnic Food Rating Council of America (not something I made up...
Look it up; it's totally real).  All I can say is that the NPFRCA and
the folks around here had  better enjoy it while it lasts because I
won't be making Independence Party Pie for at least another year!

Are you a fan of Jell-O? How are your Jell-O skills - molding, layering, etc.?  How do you spend the 4th of July (I know we have plenty of wacky tacky turkey necks outside the US; please feel free to chime in)?

Happy Independence Pie Day!!!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny

p.s. No catsup was harmed in the making of this Independence Party Pie.
p.p.s As it turns out, the NPFRCA (National Pyrotechnic Food Rating Council of America is NOT real.  The editors regret any confusion.

Kitsch-en Kounter: Coconut Curry Volcano

If someone asked you if you had a "ring mold," I dare say that your initial reaction would be to immediately make the earliest available appointment with your dermatologist.  Contemporary kitchens have all but abandoned the ring mold - in actual fact, an effective kitchen tool paramount in western culinary tradition until the advent of such highbrow, television programs as "Extreme Garnishing" and "Food Feng Shui" (check your local listings...or don't, it's entirely possible that I just made these up).

Savory or sweet, the ring mold is always fusing form with function.

As you might have gathered, as I page through old periodicals, I'm always inspired by photographs of the odd, if altogether festive, foodstuffs.  A common trend among the images is the use of the ring mold for everything from hearty beef stew to creamy custards.  The ring mold is a wonderfully-blank canvas on which to create mesmerizing mealtime masterpieces.  Disappointed that we have collectively turned our back on the ring mold, I decided to resurrect its use in today's kitchen - where I think we have strayed so far into post-modern food presentation that it is high time that the tide turn back to goofy, yet glamorous, dinnertime design.  The old advertisements that I found had me thinking that a cool direction to take the ring mold would be east...far east.  I thought a pan-Pacific theme would be an ideal culinary tradition upon which to build.  Given the shape of the mold and my general flavor profile, what else could I make but a COCONUT CURRY VOLCANO?!?!?!

Teaming with the theme, I laid the table with several remnants of
Chinese brocade that I had in the stash and topped it with bamboo
placemats and flatware, Asian figurines, Japanese dishes, mismatched
chopsticks, and fresh flowers.  I call it "Pan-Pacific Pastiche!"

It is probably best that one's food, particularly when it is curry based, never be associated with something so...eruptive.  Nevertheless, spicy curry in a rice-y ring spoke to the chop suey-flavored menus of exotic, mid-century restaurants; a volcano just seemed like the natural progression.

I've mentioned before that I detest waste - especially when it comes to food.  I'm becoming famous for my treatment of leftovers that leaves those eating totally unaware of the previous meal from which the current one started its life.  A curry was the perfect foil for the chunks of chicken and remnants of roast that needed to be repurposed at our house; it is also an ideal base for any leftover proteins and/or vegetables you might have on hand.

Coconut Curry Volcano
I was concerned that it would become a giant mess before I made the presentation but the sticky, densely-
packed, coconut rice straight from the ring mold created a wonderfully- impenetrable barrier.  Success!

MR TINY'S COCONUT CURRY

Ingredients:

1 14 oz. Can of coconut milk

1 Large onion sliced

2 Cloves of garlic minced

1 Medium yam or sweet potato cubed

2 Large carrots chopped (or a couple handfuls of baby carrots)

2 Potatoes (any variety) cubed

1 Tbsp. Sugar

2 Tbsp. Curry Paste (any variety)

2 Tbsp. Fish Sauce*

Chili flakes*

1 Bunch of cilantro/coriander chopped*

Any leftover protein (chicken, pork, beef, tofu)*

Shredded Coconut

Water

Rice (any variety, and enough to fill a ring mold) prepare as directed on package

Directions:

In a saucepan, boil carrots, yam, and potatoes until fork tender.  Drain and set aside.

Start a heavy-bottomed pot on medium-high heat.  Skim the coconut oil off the top of the canned coconut milk and add to the pot to use as your cooking medium.  Add onion and saute until translucent.
Add garlic and cook just until fragrant.  Add curry paste and chili flakes (to taste) and mix into onions and garlic (many of the spices in curry paste are oil soluble and need to bloom in the heat of the oil).  Add protein and cook until heated through.  Add coconut milk, sugar, and fish sauce.  Lightly rinse the coconut milk can and add about 1/2 can of water to the curry.  Add vegetables to the mixture.  Reduce heat and simmer until ready to serve.

Prepare rice in a rice cooker or according to package instructions (to underscore the coconut flavor in the curry, I added about 1/2 cup of shredded coconut to the rice).  Press rice into a ring mold prepared with cooking spray.  Unmold rice onto a serving tray, fill with curry, and garnish with cilantro.

Lava flow!!!

Although I am well known for my leftover makeovers, I have a strict policy against leftover leftovers.  Knowing that I had made quite a bit of food, I sent out a text message inviting several people over for a supper of Coconut Curry Volcano.  In response, one text inquired, "What does that mean?"  My only reply was, "Bring your bib and come on over!"

Haunted George versus The Volcano
He liked it so much that he had two helpings -
after washing his hands and saying grace, of course.

Then again, his shirt kind of says it all...

The next attempt at the Coconut Curry Volcano will definitely include a more-organic, more-volcanic shape (out of brown rice maybe).  We're developing a better presentation as well, with the interactive experience of making the volcano erupt (still hammering out the details of that one).  Until then, enjoy this appropriate musical interlude.

"Volcano" - The Three Suns

Speaking of presentation, get a load of MUSIC MIKE!

Cheers!

Mr. Tiny