Friday, June 23, 2006

Step four, get a beer.

Instructions from Lisa regarding a pile of food stuffs on my kitchen table: “Mike, mix these together for me please, so I can make it into a casserole for brunch tomorrow. Make sure you melt the butter first.”

What am I, a first grader? Of course you melt the butter first. Duh. Now, should that go in the microwave for ten, twelve minutes? Fifteen to be safe, I guess. Man, this cooking thing’s a breeze. Join me, won’t you?

Welcome to...
Today’s treat: Potato Discombobulation!

Hopefully, your recipe calls for as few steps as possible. Note that mine is really just 1. open everything, and 2. mix it all together. I mean, c’mon. Pop Tarts have more directions.

Oh, and 3. don’t forget to melt the butter.

Start with the condensed chicken soup stuff. It looks the most like boogers and therefore deserves to be on the bottom of your Discombobulation. Feel free to make a joke to yourself about what a condensed chicken looks like. Ah, Mr. Larson, we miss you.

Next, very carefully close your eyes, spin around, and gently thrust your hand out until it hits what we’ll call Ingredient No. 2. If you’re cooking anywhere near knives today, you’ve probably just cut yourself badly. Go get a Band-Aid™ and think about the lesson you’ve learned.

I chose the cornflakes. Add them in. Mmm... stays crunchy even in condensed chicken broth. Next, wonder if you were really supposed to add corn flakes, or if they’d just been left on the table since breakfast. Resign yourself to being a Letter-Of-The-Law chef and move on. (Picture enlarged to show texture.)

Get a huge block of cheese and go to town with a grater. Make sure you shred all of it as evenly and masterfully as I have. Decide not to post a picture of it because it reveals the incriminating empty Wegman's Shredded Cheese bags. Scandal!

Next, do the sour cream. You probably have a new container of sour cream (since, let’s face it, whatever sour cream is left over from your last meal is no good, even if that meal was ten minutes ago—sour cream is magic that way) so don’t forget to peal off the plastic. For best results, immediately drop the plastic on the floor. Give it the middle finger, since it had the audacity to land sour cream side down. Damned inanimate objects.

Finally, add the taters. Notice how your creation is a metaphor for life. Sometimes, it just looks like a bowl of hash browns, but it actually hides layers and layers of cheese, sour cream and cereal just beneath the surface. Sometimes, just sometimes, there’s even condensed chicken stuff. Hum “Fruit on the Bottom” to yourself.

Wrap foil over the bowl, put it back in the fridge for your wife to finish, get it back out, unwrap it, take the forgotten butter out of the microwave, decide you probably shouldn’t have melted it without putting it in something, if only some object had been invented to contain liquids so we dumbass mortals didn’t have to melt things in wax paper, perhaps we could call it a bowl or a cup or something, stir it all up, re-wrap it in foil, re-put it back in the fridge for your wife to finish, and go blog.

1 comment:

mom b said...

you will be asked to bring your specialty to all the parties from now on. it was quite yummy. grama b