Hi. You’re probably wondering what the hell you are doing here.
The fuck if I know.
Some of you may have been here before. Some of you may be new.
Some of you may be ‘constant readers’ like the ones Stephen King refers to in many of his books.
I will try to creep you out and amuse you in ways similar to The King. Though it’s more likely to be with disturbing tales of cooking gone wrong, than it is with elaborately written, amazing tales of horror and suspense.
Instead of giant insects coming out of The Mist, it’ll be burnt beans coming out of My Saucepan. Instead of going back in time to prevent the Kennedy assassination, it’ll be me wishing I could time travel back to before I dropped an entire bottle of soy sauce into the soup. The only place where there may be some actual overlap is if I concoct a pie like the one he gets at the end of Thinner. And that my dear friends, is an actual possibility. Cursed food is a speciality of mine. I should put that shit on my CV.
Speaking of curses, I decided I’d try making one of the breakfasts again. This time the brown rice bowl with edamame and tamari scallion sauce. Whenever I hear the word scallion it makes me think of rapscallions, pirates, and other assorted scallywags. And this dish is so simple to make, and has so few ingredients, that I can actually imagine pirates eating this shit. Ladling it up from an old battered pot over a fire. I can see it as clear as day. Or as clear as homebrewed rum. (So, a little bit murky at times).
And pirates are also a breed of Thug. I mean with their cut-throat attitude if there’s not enough grub to go around they’ll have you walking the plank before you can say ‘Motherfucking Marauder’.
Anyways, go make this dish and tell me you don’t think of pirates. I motherfucking dare you.
It comes out looking a bit fancier than what a pirate would eat if you sprinkle on the almonds, but you could just serve it up to your guests almond-free, in some dirty old chipped bowl you found in the land fill, if you wanna go for a more piratey ambience. An eye patch helps too. And if you can’t quite see what you’re cooking it’s more likely to go wrong, adding even more of an authentic haphazard vibe to the proceedings. Having a squawking parrot nearby also helps things along in the right direction, but who am I to tell you what kinda pet to buy? A parrot is for life people, not just for Christmas or a pirate party.
Anyways feast your eyes on this rapscallion ricey goodness:
Just what you need to sort you out before you go aplundering.
And the sauce has nice little onioney kick that’ll make you feel like you have pirates breath, I love that kinda shit. But then I love the kind of garlic dressing that burns when you eat it, and leaves you alienated from half the guests at your party…so I might be a bit biased.
Now I’m off to polish my wooden leg. But that’s a whole other story.
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That rapscallion shit punched my tongue with goodness.
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