Wednesday, December 24, 2014

Ceci N'est Pas Une Click-Bait

We interrupt our regularly scheduled recipes to bring you a pinterest-omg-are-you-f***ing-kidding- me liar. (Really, I should say fb liar, as I saw this link on Facebook.) Either way. Liar. J'accuse!

My point is, if you came to this blog article looking for a recipe, you might want to look away, because this post is going to be ripping apart this horrid thing:

(um, "hot moms?" really? Are you a click-baiting site or a porn site?)

First of all, let's deal with the click-baiting title, shall we?

"She Pours Egg Into The Waffle Iron. Seconds Later?* I’m Never Cooking Again"

(*seconds later she had uncooked egg...)

YOU'RE NEVER COOKING AGAIN, ARE YOU??? Well, I hate to break this to you, click-baiting liar, but COOKING IN A WAFFLE IRON IS STILL ^%&(* COOKING. 

[pant pant pant]

Ok. Let's get to the content.

There are seven "recipes" here, if you can call them that. No, actually, I can't. Because they AREN'T RECIPES. They are INSTRUCTIONS on how to put things into the waffle rather than the oven. And I'm a-ok with putting things into the waffle iron rather than the oven, actually. It might use less electricity, it makes a cute shape, fine.

I'm also semi-ok with brownies being put into the waffle iron, because that might actually taste good, if we accept the premise that these brownies are going to be crunchy rather than gooey, which is what proper brownies should be.)

Now, let's tear apart a few of these other "recipes," shall we? Grrr.

Cinnamon buns
Ok. Cinnamon buns. I like cinnamon buns. But. This. Is. Not. A. Recipe. Cinnamon buns DO NOT GROW IN A CAN. I have a recipe for cinnamon buns. It's a great recipe. It comes from Allrecipes. You make the buns from scratch.  It's a yeast dough. THAT'S a recipe. A really wonderful recipe. If you want to make that, then stick it in the waffle iron, go right ahead.

This? NOT a recipe.

Hash Browns
OH. MY GOD. Did she HONESTLY just say that you could just "pick up a bag of tater tots and throw them on your waffle iron?

Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.
I'm going to say this once, and no more:

If it looks like it originated in a plastic bag, it is not food.

If it could survive a nuclear holocaust, it is not food. (Unless it's canned, but we can talk about that later.)

If it would survive longer on a shelf than you would, it is not food.

and finally,



"Haven't mastered the art of the omelette?" questions the nice hot mom in the video.



First of all, this does not look like a mastered omelette. It looks dried out and disgusting.

Ceci n'est pas une omelet!!!
Secondly, if you want to master the omelette, don't ask a hot mom. Ask Julia Child (neither a mom nor hot). She'll steer you right.

Now THAT'S how you make an omelette. 

That's all the rant I have energy for today, kids. If you don't know how to make an omelette, please, I beg you, do not put it in the waffle maker. (Though, come to think of it, if you haven't mastered the art of the omelette, you probably do not own such ridiculous uni-taskers as a waffle iron.)

If you do have a waffle iron, go ahead and make...waffles. Or grilled cheese sandwiches. Or cornbread. Or banana-nut bread. Or anything else that you want flat with little square shapes.

Just, please. Don't call it a recipe.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

Beans Beans the Magical Legume

In other, non-cooking related news, Mr. Better Butter is no longer employed in an actual office where they pay him money in exchange for services rendered.

(This is, actually, going to bring us back to food, and I'll tell you how. Just be patient.)

A strange thing happens when we are both jobless. Despite the fact that I, supposedly, have some earning power and could probably go out and get a crappy desk job fairly immediately, and despite the fact that Mr. Blogger will probably be collecting more unemployment than I could ever earn, and despite the fact that we actually have some money saved - despite all this, when we are both unemployed, I go into what I call EXTREME SAVING MODE. (The good thing is that this fits in nicely with living as a frugal pantry-eating, dumpster-diving, sustainability freak...the bad thing is, like any other extreme diet, it's not actually that sustainable and once we get jobs, I tend to go on teeny tiny crazed spending sprees. It's how we got our lovely couch.)

For now, though, I'm going to try to be über-thrifty in my kitchen. (You know I'm serious because I used an umlaut.)

umlaut = serious

This fits in nicely with the slightly neglected pantry clean, it fits nicely with sustainability, and it fits in wonderfully with clean eating and living from scratch. Not that I don't bake all the bread from scratch anyway, but now there may be more legumes consumed. (Human methane emissions keep you warm, right? Saves on heating bill!! Win-win!)

Beans, beans, they're good for your... pocket

So I'm just going to finish up by giving you an über-savingsy, frugal, clean-living recipe, because that's what I do here on this blog. It is brought to you partially by my recent brain-wash sustainability course, and it's a great last minute 'oh-shit-I've-got-last-minute-guests-coming-what-do-I-feed-them' recipe. It's also a great 'oh-shit-there-is-nothing-in-the-house-but-lentils-what-do-I-eat' recipe. So now, without further ado, I bring you:

Red-lentil Hummus Recipe (Tastes Just Like Real Hummus Recipe)

Note: for this recipe I'm going to do that thing that irritates the crap out of hubby, and not give you precise measurements. The real reason is because I don't know them and I've been making it differently each time, but we can pretend the reason is because I'm assuming all readers are either serious foodies or just here for the jokes. Or both. If you need precise measurements, comment and I'll measure next time.

  • Red lentils
  • Tehinna paste
  • Lemon juice
  • Parsley/coriander/random onion paste you make by chopping up onions, herbs, and olive oil
  • Salt
  • Spices like chili or cayenne if you import it from America or cumin or something
  • Ice-cold water]
  1. Soak the red lentils, with intent to sprout them
  2. Lose patience after a few hours because it takes too long, and cook them instead - just for a few minutes, until they're soft enough to mash.
  3. Stick in food processor. Process. Add other stuff. Taste. Add other stuff except for liquid. Keep tasting and adding until it tastes good. 
  4. Add liquid until it gets smooth enough to spread.
  5. Serve. Feel snooty that you made red lentil hummus.