Recipes of the Damned, Volume IV: Poor Man's Apple Crisp. A cautionary tale.

From the Family of God Lutheran Church Cookbook, circa 1984.

POOR MAN'S APPLE CRISP
5 cups zucchini

[Sprays a geyser of Coke Zero all over recipe book, coffee table, and freshly laundered clothing. Swears, grabs a fistful of paper towels. Cleans up. Continues.]

1 cup white sugar
1 teaspoon cinnamon
¼ cup lemon juice
¾ cup water

Okaaaayyy.... [Raises eyebrow, looks dubious.]

Slice zucchini and cut away seed.

[Hands over ears.] Nah nah nah nah, I can't hear you!

Cook until tender 15 minutes.

[Hands over ears.] NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH NAH!

Will be juicy, poor [sic] into 9” pan.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHNAH NAH NAH NAH NAH!!!

Topping:
1 cup flour
6 tablespoons soft margarine
1 cup brown sugar
1 teaspoon baking powder
½ teaspoon salt

Well...okay. Alright. [Tents fingers.] I'm listening....

Mix well, sprinkle over cooked zucchini.

Aaaand you've lost me.

Bake 45 minutes at 350º.

You know what, why don't you go ahead and skip that “baking” step.* I've got a better idea:



I get that zucchini is one of those things that is traditionally hidden in other things. I've tried zucchini bread, but I have absolutely no paradigm for what zucchini actually tastes like, I just remember that it's green. I'm pretty sure it's spongy. It's like a spongy cucumber that isn't an eggplant. What is the point of its continued existence? We should eradicate it like polio! Don't American children deserve to walk limp-free and eat desserts that aren't savory? THINK ABOUT THE CHILDREN.

Jeremy just peered over my shoulder, grimaced, and asked “Is this from the same f*cker that submitted the recipe for Mock Chicken Salad?” He then went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Moments later, he stuck his head into the hallway--toothbrush in midair--and said, foamily, “If you sherved that to a sheven year old, they'd shtart wetting their bed in protesht.” A moment later I heard him spit, then call, “You know what? Scratch that. They'd start wetting your bed.”

And you'd only have yourself to blame.


*Unless you truly plan to eat this, in which case you'll want to add a "getting baked" step.

Recipes of the Damned Volume III: The infamous Penny Supper.

From the Family of God Lutheran Church Cookbook, circa 1984

Penny Supper

6 wieners, thinly sliced

4 medium potatoes, cooked and diced

3 tablespoons onion, minced

¼ cup soft butter

1 cup cooked peas

1 teaspoon prepared mustard

1 can cream of mushroom soup

salt and pepper

Combine wiener slices with potatoes, onions, and butter in casserole.

No. I will not combine them.

Mix in rest of ingredients.

Absolutely not! I will not mix them!

Bake at 350º for 25-30 minutes.

NO! I WILL NOT BAKE IT! That releases the...the...smell!

Penny Supper. The. Infamous. Penny. Supper. In my family it has ascended to a legendary status. Penny Supper kind of, sort of hits me where I live...you see, I left something off of this recipe: the name of the person that submitted it for publication.

My mother.

And she will swear to you that it is delicious.

Memory is an imperfect thing, and it has been about twenty-seven years since I have scooped up a steaming forkful of this tantalizing meal, but I remember it smelled like feet and tasted like sadness. It just goes to show that one man's feast is another's famine, as my mother is an otherwise excellent cook, and a person of sound judgment.

Since she is one of my six followers, I think I will use this platform to ask her a question I have occasionally pondered over the years: Is this recipe called Penny Supper because all of the ingredients are inexpensive, or because thinly sliced pieces of hot dog resemble pennies?

[Dry heaves.]

Just, uh, wondering. Love ya, mom! I also love your cabbage rolls, Mexican pasta shells, carrot cake, and BLTs! Let's not allow this one little recipe to come between us.

Although...if it does come between us? I can't promise I won't use you as a human shield. :)

Recipes of the Damned, Volume II: WOULD YOU RATHER?

Below are actual recipe titles from my vast, five-volume collection of vintage upper-Midwestern cookbooks. Do yourself a favor and read them out loud! If there are other people in the room, do not explain yourself...trust me, it's better that way. Feel free to use dramatic inflection. Something between Adam West and Norma Desmond should do nicely.

If you can't bring yourself to recite these abominations like a Shakespearean William Shatner--and believe me when I say you are missing out--imagine James Earl Jones doing it...and by "doing it," I mean reading these recipe names aloud in a theatrical manner. What did you think I meant? [Whistles casually, studies fingernails.]

[Cancels cue, Barry White.]

Favorite Fudge "Microwave"
Barbecue Sour Kraut
Chopped Egg Mold
Miracle Whip Cake
Moose Enchiladas
Curried Turkey Turnovers
Salmon Log
Porcupine Balls
Popover Buckaroo Beef Bake
Broccoli-corn
Seafoam Cantaloupe Tarts
Stir-Fry Chicken Livers
Bison Slamdunk
Burning Bush*
Sunny Jim
Lemon Stuff
Goose Liver Bonbons
Porky Good Spread
Steaks Cujo
Gravy-Meat Casserole
Chicken Wiggle
“Beans”

Now: imagine yourself in a restaurant in some far-flung land. For the sake of this exercise, let's say your car just broke down in Roseau, Minnesota. There is only one greasy spoon open at the advanced hour of 8 pm, and you are absolutely famished. The items on this list comprise the entire menu. The waitress only speaks Norwegian, ya. WHAT DO YOU ORDER?

Before you go with the relatively innocent-sounding Favorite Fudge "Microwave" or "Beans," ask yourself why they need the quotation marks.

*[I have to say, Porcupine Balls and Chicken Wiggle notwithstanding, Burning Bush scares me most of all. Not only do I not recall what genre of food or drink it is, but it reminds me of an episode of Sex and the City and that is ALL I WILL SAY ON THIS MATTER.]

Bon appetit!

Recipes of the Damned, Volume I

As found on page 69 of the Pine to Prairie Telephone Pioneers of America Cookbook, circa 1981.

MOCK CHICKEN SALAD
7 lb. pork shoulder, cooked and cut into small cubes

WHAT THE-

[rubs eyes, checks vision. Looks again]

7 lb. veal shoulder, cooked and cut into small cubes

WHAT THE...WHAT THE HELL ARE FOURTEEN POUNDS OF PORK AND VEAL DOING IN MY CHICKEN SALAD????????????????

1 c. French dressing

8 c. apples, cored, cut into cubes

8 c. chopped celery

1 ½ c. ripe olives, chopped

3 c. salad dressing

¼ c. (2 lemons) lemon juice

½ tsp. thyme

2 Tbsp. salt

Pour French dressing over meat. Mix thoroughly until each piece is coated. Let stand in refrigerator at least 2 hours to blend flavors. Add apples, celery, and olives to meat. Combine salad dressing, lemon juice, thyme and salt. Pour over mixture. Stir lightly to blend. Keep salad in refrigerator until ready to serve. Serve on crisp lettuce or other salad greens. Yield: 50 servings (¾ cup per serving).

This is a joke, right? This person is kidding? RIGHT? Because I'm not sure I want to live in a world where this meal exists. Like your wrist and your elbow, apples and olives should never meet. And why not just call it Pork-n-Veal McMeaty Meatpile with Saucy Salad Dressing Surprise if that's what it is? Don't overdo the thyme, Nellie...we don't want it SPICY! Remember that time you added that extra pinch of marjoram and Pastor Aasgaard's wife had a coughing fit and burst her girdle? There were CHILDREN present, Nellie! Think about the children!

You know what this recipe makes me want to do? It makes me want to punch a farmer. Logical? No...but neither is calling a dish made of pork and veal MOCK CHICKEN SALAD.

That is all.

Potluck!

IT'S HOTDISH WEEK ON PIRATES IN PARTY DRESSES, AND YOU'RE INVITED!

But Jill, you may (or may not) ask, isn't it a little soon to have an anything week? I mean, you've posted two entries, you have three followers, and you're using a generic Blogger template. Also, aren't you a little bit concerned that if you post more entries about hotdish than anything else, you won't just have a Hotdish Week, but a Hotdish Blog?

Well, if danger is gasoline then I am the match, baby, and I won't even bother closing the cover before striking. It's September, I'm nostalgic for northwestern Minnesota in the fall, and I just found my stash of vintage cookbooks that I never use yet refuse to part with. For those of you that grew up on Beef-n-Tatertot Casserole and Cheesy Calico Bean Bake, here's a trip down memory lane. For the rest of you poor lost souls, I have created this handy guide. Feel free to print it out and save it for use in the field. The life you save may be your own.

We'll begin at the beginning.

Is it hotdish?

• Are the recipe instructions simple? Will they fit on one side of an index card?
• Do the ingredients have a long shelf life? Are most of them processed, canned, boxed, or frozen?
• Is everything cooked together in a single baking dish or crock pot?
• Is the seasoning limited to small amounts of salt, pepper, garlic salt, onion salt, parsley, oregano, Soy sauce or Worcestershire sauce?
• Is there some form—or even multiple forms—of cream soup involved?
• Is the main body of the dish potato, white rice, canned beans, or “noodles”?
• Is it topped with one or more of the following: Fritos, saltines, Ritz crackers, tater tots, potato chips, chow mein noodles, a pound of cheese, or Durkee French Fried Onions?
• Does the name of the recipe sound ethnic, but does the actual food item bear no resemblance to the cuisine of that or any other world culture?
• Bonus points: Would it make chef Gordon Ramsay cry? Would he then recoil as if from a deadly asp, drop multiple f-bombs, overturn the dining room table, and vanish, wailing, into the frozen and godforsaken night? Well, uff-da, who died and left him in charge of what is delicious?

Did you answer yes to five or more of the following questions? Congratulations! You are in the presence of hotdish. I hope you brought your appetite!

Now that you understand the basics, here are some typical specimens, so you may better identify feral hotdish in the wilds of the buffet table. The following recipes have been copied verbatim from the Family of God Lutheran Church Cookbook, circa 1984. These are the dishes that were often served and eaten at the Sunday potluck dinners of my youth, were likely famed amongst the congregants, and requested time and time again, from people with names like "Alvira Petersen." Let this knowledge haunt you as you peruse them!

Broccoli Casserole
2 packages thawed broccoli, chopped
Saute:
½ cup chopped onion
1 cup chopped celery
½ cup butter or margarine
Mix together:
2 cans cream of mushroom soup
1 16 oz. jar of Cheez Whiz
3 cups Minute Rice

Fold together, place in cake pan or glass baking dish. Cover with crushed saltine or Ritz crackers. Cover with foil. Bake 40 minutes at 350 degrees.

SQUISHY.

African Chow Mein

1 can cream of mushroom soup

1 can chicken wild rice soup
2 cans water
1 ½ lb. Hamburger
1 onion or more
1 cup chopped celery
½ cup raw rice
1 to 2 tablespoons Soy sauce

Brown meat, onion and celery. Combine with remaining ingredients. Bake in slow oven at least 1 hour at 350. Slower baking is better. Cover top with chow mein noodles the last 15-20 minutes.

THIS IS NEITHER AFRICAN NOR CHOW MEIN. 

Mexican chicken casserole

1 chicken (cooked)

1 dozen tortillas
1 can cream of chicken soup
1 can cream of mushroom soup
1 cup milk
1 grated onion
1 can green chili salso [sic]
1 lb. Shredded cheese

Cut and cube chicken. Cut tortillas into small pieces. Combine soups, milk, onion, and salso [sic]. Put 2 tablespoons chicken broth—You know what? That's really all you need to know. I mean, cream of mushroom soup, in Mexican food? On what unholy plane does that make sense? OH MY GOD THE HUMANITY.

So there you have it: Hotdish 101. Join us for the next exciting installment, which will appear when you least expect it, and may or may not contain games and activities. I like to keep things unpredictable, to keep you off balance. It's all part of my tendency towards disorganization sinister plan for world domination.