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The Best Tuscan Chicken Recipe

Don’t you hate when you click on a recipe, only to find not a recipe, but some blowhard going on and on about their Italian grandmother’s journey to the United States, and how all she had was two Sicilian dollars and her recipe book to get through the boat ride? And how the boat sank and she swam to shore, now broke, and the only recipe that survived was one for Tuscan Chicken? Fast forward a few years, and now the grandmother (who wasn’t a grandmother at this point in the story) is slangin’ hash for 25 cents a week, while at night she climbs to the roof of her tenement, gazing east towards home, trying to recall all those lost recipes, but still taking comfort in the fact that she at least still has her Tuscan Chicken. Then one day after work, a Wednesday to be exact, because she cooks Tuscan Chicken every Wednesday, a really hot guy follows the scent up the the grandmother’s door and knocks. People were still really sexist back then, so the guy is like “Hey, you’re gonna be my wife and cook that for me.” She says ‘yes’ and they get married. The guy’s misogynist patterns only continue. The years pass, and she begins to resent Tuscan Chicken, because it has now become a symbol of her oppression. She vows to make a change. Next Wednesday, she makes the Tuscan Chicken, true to the recipe, as always. Except for one minor addition—-POISON(and also some of her pee)!!!! They sit down for dinner, and she secretly pulls out a piece of pee-and-poison-free chicken for herself so she can eat without her husband becoming suspicious. Fifteen minutes later, the guy is barfing and crapping everywhere. Next thing you know, he’s dead, and the grandmother ends up in jail. Ten years into her sentence, she finally gets a job in the prison kitchen for 25 cents per month. She still remembers Tuscan Chicken. The prison kitchen doesn’t have the ingredients for it. The head of the prison says it’s not in the budget. So she sleeps with him. It turns out he was lying when he told her that if she slept with him he would have the ingredients brought in. So she poisons him and escapes. I think this is how she became pregnant. Anyways, now she’s an ex-convict single mother who has killed two people. Tuscan Chicken helps her forget all that.

It’s usually about this point in the story that the person actually gives you the recipe, and it’s really annoying that they could have just put it right at the top. It’s rather vexing. Now, you came here for a Tuscan Chicken recipe, didn’t you? Cook some chicken and pour Italian seasoning on it.

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How To Make Jelly Beans

Sometimes, when you haven’t bought groceries for a long period of time, you are forced to make do with what you have on hand in your pantry. I’ve created many exotic dishes this way—there was one time I only had four pounds of fresh mangoes, a cup of brown sugar, two sticks of celery, a pile of cranberries, a tablespoon of extra virgin olive oil, two yellow onions, a few ounces of apple cider vinegar, a half cup of minced ginger, three garlic cloves, a pinch of salt, and some love. From this, I was somehow able to craft a batch of what I named Third World Cranberry Mango Chutney, for that is how I imagine suffering people cook. They make what they can, and then create folk music on garbage can lids. After that I pan-seared a twelve ounce steak in some butter and poured the chutney over it. I took one bite and threw everything away, because I realized that I do not like chutney, and the taste had ruined the steak.

So, the other day, I found myself with literally nothing but some very old grape jelly, and half a can of black beans. I put those beans in a pan, then added the jelly and let it simmer for five minutes.

I named the dish Jelly Beans. They did not taste good.

Nutty Chickle-Que

October 28, 2014 1 comment

Here’s how to prepare Nutty Chickle-Que (Peanut butter-enhanced chicken and pickles with barbeque sauce), one of the sexiest recipes of all time.

Peanut butter. Chicken. Pickles. Barbeque sauce. Adjectives from romantic novels. Combine these. But not all at once.

And also, spinach, honey, salt, pepper, and garlic powder. And more adjectives.

In an lubed pan, lustfully cook the chicken to an internal temp of 165 degrees Fahrenheit. Otherwise you’ll get a throbbing case of diarrhea.

Titillatingly add in the other stuff, and groan enticingly as you do. Let the peanut butter melt sensually, then stir supplely, while wiggling your hips swivelingly.

Erotically wait while everything heats up and blendingly blends. Sweatily remove the pan from the heat, being careful not to drip perspiration in the pan accidentally.

Hornily wait while it all cools. Serve on a plate, and eat ravenously.

Moistly fill your sink with water, clean the dishes regretfully, and wait yearningly until your next meal.

Categories: Recipes Tags: , , , ,

A Food Recipe For A Meal

The pages of culinary history are stained with the lipid-laden blood of creators, the greasy footprints of thieves, and the spatterings of rich, creamy sauces. The recipes that leap out of the past from those pages, especially the early ones, were made with food prepared by unwashed hands, saturated in sweat, earwax, and bedazzled with odd meat choices like squirrel, marmot, bear genitalia, to be consumed by whoever would take it. And people were gross enough to take anything back then.

As food evolved over time, every new generation of innovators stood on the shoulders of the one preceding it. This is where we get our ‘regional’ favorites, which then breed and morph into sundry ‘fusion’ dishes, and so on. Then along comes a guy who would throw the rulebook out the window, if he had ever bothered to pick it up, a culinary ronin roaming the robust, zesty landscape, a guy who ingested a large amount of caffeine after donating plasma who feels like too manythoughts arehittinghisbrain and can’t getthem outfastenough so he’s startingtoramble and forgetwhat wherethiswholethingwasheaded.

The original recipe escapes me now. I feel sweaty. I’ll try next week, go buy a Hamburger Helper and follow the instructions on the box for the time being. I need a nap.

How To Make Honey Peanut Butter Oat Food Meal

Here’s something I concocted. It’s got honey. It’s got oats. It’s got peanut butter. You can call it honey peanut butter oat food meal, oats with honey and peanut butter snack, or H.O.P.B. (pronounced ‘hop’—the ‘B’ is silent, like in womb, or plumber).

Now, the ingredient list goes like this: oats, honey, and peanut butter. Also, love, care, friendship. And last, but not least, dead skin cells. This last is easiest, as it’s nearly impossible not to get them in there.

Grab a bowl. Insert the oats, honey, and peanut butter into it. The dead skin cells won’t be far behind. As to the love, care, and friendship, you go about getting those into the mix however you see fit.

Microwave for around 20 seconds. The chemical reaction betwixt the peanut butter and friendship and heat will form a sort of soft, paste-like substance that will make everything else mix together.

It’s ready to eat now. You earned it, champ.

 

From My Kitchen To Yours: How To Make Peanut Butter Sauce

This recipe can be eaten solo. It can be drizzled on an apple, significant other, or animal. It adds robust flavor to vegetables. Here’s how you make peanut butter sauce:

Drop a spoonful of peanut butter into a hot pan. It will melt and become peanut butter sauce.

 

Garlic Sweet Potato Cheese Bean Spread

As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being.”

– Carl Jung

Ah yes, the meaning of life. Who knows what it is, but I can tell you this with near certainty — a hefty portion of the equation involves food, for without it we would perish. And if there is food to be ingested, it may as well taste good. So, make a dash to the store and pick up:

-Sweet potatoes

-Beans (buyer’s choice, I use black or pinto)

-Garlic powder

-Cheese (buyer’s choice)

Instructions:

Soften the sweet potatoes by boil. Put them in a bowl and add in beans and garlic powder. Mash it all together. Spread it over a plate and cover with cheese. Microwave until the cheese melts. Eat it. I used generic Triscuits to dip with. I also doused it with chicken wing sauce that I got at the Dollar Tree.

Here’s the Blong (Blog Song) of the day. Widespread Panic with Ain’t Life Grand.

 

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