4 Shots of the Fruit-Pocalypse

Artist's rendition: Me this morning

So yesterday I was at a wedding. It was pretty awesome. Happy people dancing, band playing music, awesome food, the whole deal. Also, there was a bunch of booze floating around. I was talking to a friend about my plans for this week's entry, which was gonna be an alcoholic drink involving chocolate, cream, sugar, bailey's, pure joy, and milkshakes. Sounds awesome, I know, but she was lamenting the fact that she wouldn't be able to try it until she was off of her wedding-diet. Which got me curious. That's always a bad thing. Curiosity and weddings mix badly. But I got inspired by the fruity nonsense drinks flying around the place to try and make a delicious simple drink that, while isn't exactly diet-friendly, is much more so than 1,000 pounds of cream, sugar, and chocolate all vying to make your face explode with happiness. Happiness, and also the daily caloric intake of Guatemala.

Ingredients:

2 shots of Peach Schnapps (Technically, a shot is 1.5 ounces. So this would be 3 ounces. Or you could have just taken a shot glass and filled it up twice, instead of making everything difficult)
1 shot Triple Sec
1 shot Vodka
1 20 oz. bottle of Ginger Ale
Limes! 
Ice!
Maraschino Cherries!

Warning: do not consume without first making a toast, laying
on a beach, or screaming out the roof of a limo.

This is a recipe that involves absolutely no cooking, and not much in the way of assembly either. If you can't figure this one out, you may want to just call in sick for the rest of the decade rather than risk the daily puzzle that is tying your shoes. The first thing you're gonna want to do is take your peach schnapps, triple sec, vodka, and ginger ale, and mix them together. Then slice your lime in to...slices of lime. Lay a couple lime slices upright in a glass, and then fill said glass with ice. Ice is key for any cocktail. Even heathen peoples who like warm beer, and will be rightfully punished by the gods for their blasphemy, acknowledge that cocktails need ice. So find some way to get some ice, and plop it in your glass. As you fill up the glass with ice, throw in some cherries and more lime slices along the edge of the glass, because we're classy goddammit. Then fill up your glass with your booze mixture. And that's it! You've got delicious fruity nonsense that's not as terribly caloric as it might have otherwise been. You know, if I was left to my own devices. My chocolatey, delicious devices. Enjoy.

Sloppy Joe

So, according to the internet, another name for a Sloppy Joe
is a "Wimpie." So this happened. Because I'm a child.

Legend has it that back in Sioux City, Iowa (The "Tallahassee" of Iowa) a chef named Joe invented what he called "The loose meat sandwich." And it was awesome. But the only thing known to man that sounds less appealing than "Loose Meat Sandwich" is "Fishguts Ice Cream," so it's no surprise that the name didn't stick. The awesomeness did though. As little as 10 years later, cookbooks were printing recipes for "Sloppy Joe" sandwiches, which sounds like a super backhanded compliment to me. They're down for naming the sandwich after him, but they still have to get a dig in at Joe's expense. Because cookbook writers are jerks. Then again, apparently the term "Sloppy Joe" used to refer to any cheap diner food, or even to cheap clothing. So maybe they weren't insulting Joe himself, just his job, cooking, clientele, and clothes.

Ingredients:

1 lb. Ground Beef
1 standard-issue Onion
1 Bell Pepper
1 clove Garlic
8 oz. Tomato Sauce
2 TBSP Chili Powder
1 TBSP Tomato Paste
1 tsp Ground Cumin
1/2 tsp Black Pepper
1/2 tsp Ground Mustard 
1/2 tsp Worcestershire Sauce (Nobody can ever agree on how to pronounce this name, but it's named after an actual place, so that should make it simple. It's pronounced "Glasgow.")
1/2 tsp Balsamic Vinegar
1/4 tsp Hot Sauce
Oil
Salt 

The first thing you're gonna need to do is brown your meat so you can set it aside like a neglectful parent who has better things to do than pick you up from soccer practice, thank you very much. So coat a pan with oil, heat it over medium heat, throw your beef in there, and let it sizzle for a bit (Oxford comma added for reasons of logic and awesome). Flip it and repeat, and then break up your ground beef into little beeflets using a wooden spoon. Drain any excess liquid, and set your beef aside so it can learn the hard way how to use the bus system. 

Buns sold separately. Sense of deep emotional fulfillment
may not apply in your region.

Choppity chop your onions, bell pepper, and garlic into tiny bits. Sauté your onion in a pan coated with oil along with an average-sized human's pinch 'o salt. Coom for about 3 minutes before adding in your belle pepper, garlic, and another AHSP of salt. Cook for another 2 minutes, then add in your chili powder, black pepper, mustard, tomato paste, and hot sauce. If your beef has managed to find its way back home, this is a good time to add it back in to the party as well. Let that whole nonsense cook down for a minute or so and then add in your tomato sauce, worcestershire, and balsamic. Cook for another 2 minutes, or until it smells so good that you literally can't stop yourself from reaching your hand in and shoving that goodness in your food hole, forks, propriety, and severe burns be-damned. And there you have it! Sloppy Joes! Throw that sucker down on a bun and enjoy. Or get creative and put it in an egg roll, or on mashed potatoes, or just eat it straight. Or don't. More for me. 

Stuffed Mushrooms

10 Smurfs were killed in the making of this recipe

It is in the great American spirit of stuffing things into other things, and then eating all of those things together, that I bring you this recipe for Stuffed Mushrooms. First we conquered some basic concepts like scooping eggs out of other bits of eggs, mixing it with other junk, and mashing it all back together into deliciousness. Then we did almost the exact same thing with potatoes, but we cooked the food more afterwards and it was awesome. Now we're taking mushrooms, filling them up with other mushrooms plus a whole bunch of other awesomeness, and cooking it all together. That's right, it's mushroom-ception. It's pretty much the mushroom equivalent of a turducken, or some equivalent yuppie nonsense. Why stuff vegetarian things like mushrooms, instead of stuffing delicious animals into some unholy Russian nesting doll of meat? Well, aside from the fact that no words in the English language sound more disturbing than "Russian nesting doll of meat," I ran out of turkeys.

Ingredients:

4 Portobello Mushroom Caps 
8 oz. Crimini Mushrooms 
1 Onion
1 Fennel Bulb (Note for the unamerican: in foreign lands, Fennel is sometimes referred to as "anise." This also sometimes happens domestically, but we try not to talk about it. You've been advised)
1 Green Pepper
1 Clove of Garlic
6 oz. Cream Cheese
3 oz. Parmesan Cheese
2 TBSP Butter
2 pinches o' Salt
1 pinch o' Black Pepper

Sure, that's a lot of ingredients, but try not to let it freak you out. First of all, because this really isn't all that many ingredients, and secondly because this recipe is ridiculously easy. Take your crimini mushrooms, onion, fennel, green pepper, and garlic, and choppity chop-chop them down into vaguely recognizable bits of their former glory. That's step one: The choppification. Then melt half your butter over medium heat, toss in your onions, fennel, and criminis, and sauté all of that nonsense along with your Black Pepper, and 1 pinch of Salt. After about 5 minutes add in your green pepper, garlic, and the rest of your salt, and cook it for another 3 minutes or so. Turn off the heat, and stir in your cream cheese to form a delicious creamy ooze of vegetables that's somehow enticing and repulsive at the same time.

Yeah, these are awesome. They're also mine. Make your own. 

Melt the rest of your butter, and rub down your portobellos with it until they're good and lubed. Now it's time to for the fun part, and by "fun," I mean "violating the laws of nature and common decency." Turn your portobellos upside down, take your vegetable sludge -consisting largely of mushrooms- and squidge it all up inside the hollow of the portobello caps (That's the bit that would be the attic of a Smurf's house) until they're full and you feel...just kind of wrong. Grate your parmesan cheese all up on top of those mushrooms, and throw them in a 400 degree oven for about 1/2 an hour, or until they get golden brown and smell awesome enough to almost make you forget about what you just did to poor unsuspecting mushrooms. Take them out of the oven and immediately eat them to assuage your guilty conscience. And also because they're awesome. And also, now your mouth is burned. Maybe your throat too. Totally worth it.

Jalapeño Cheddar Hashbrowns

The 1st picture in the series "Getting kicked out of the store
for posing the food."

A friend of mine recently tried to convince me that the tater tots they call hashbrowns at Dunkin Donuts to try and trick you out of your hard-earned money, are actually legit. She went on about how there are different types of hashbrowns, and how it's just a style that I hadn't seen before. Except I had seen them before. Because they were tater tots. No amount of rebranding will make them anything other than tater tots. Which isn't to say that they were bad, but they definitely weren't hashbrowns. Sure, this may seem like a pointless anecdote that doesn't really have anything to do with how to make delicious cheesy jalapeño hashbrowns.

Ingredients:

4 Potatoes (White potatoes have a pretty thin skin, so you don't really need to worry about peeling them, and they hold up well when grated. Or you could use whatever random potatoes you have lying around and end up with garbage food. Whatevs.)
2 Jalapeño Peppers
1 small Onion
6 oz. shredded Cheddar Cheese
1 Egg
1 tsp Salt
1/4 tsp Black Pepper
Vegetable Oil
1 sacrifice of chunks of your soul and body, torn asunder by pernicious circumstance

The first thing you're gonna need to do, is to come to grips with the fact that life is hard, and that pain is a regular and natural part of it that can't fully be controlled. Then, with a heavy heart, grab a box grater to grate up some vegetables and probably at least one major limb. Rinse off your potatoes, and grate them into a bowl until your arm gets angry at you and tries to make you regret ever having an arm. Once you're finished, lull your dumb arm into a false sense of security by taking a break from the grating. Use this time to rinse your jalapeños, remove their cores and seeds, mince them into itty bitty jalapeño bits, and add them in with the potatoes. Then peel your onion, chop it in half, and get back to grating until your arm starts shopping at Hot Topic and wearing gloomy makeup. Here's a fun fact! Onions release an irritant into the air that causes burning and tear production in your eyes. So while you're grating your onions on your potentially homicidal grater, you're gonna have impaired vision. Have fun!

Pictured: 1 plate of delicious hashbrowns, 1 plate of delicious
nonsense, decorative jalapeño and potato.

Using your remaining limbs, and whatever blood is still pumping through them, add in your cheese, salt, pepper, and egg, and stir to combine. Wrap the whole mess in cheesecloth or paper towels, and squeeze it to remove as much moisture as you can. Coat a pan with some oil, and heat it over medium heat. If, like my anecdotal friend, you believe that hashbrowns should be potato patties (which seem suspiciously like latkes), form some patties and get to frying. About 5 minutes on each side. But do yourself a favor, and at least make them larger, so you have something to actually bite into. If, like me, you believe in justice, and freedom, and in hashbrowns that are a pile of fried potato shreds and junk loosely held together by the common belief that life can be delicious, just throw a pan-full of your mix into your oily pan, and get to frying. Stir every minute or so until the whole thing starts to get crispy, brown and awesome. Either way, you're gonna be eating some delicious awesomeness. And one way you'll be eating hashbrowns too!

Red Cabbage Slaw

It's like the world's least interesting or dangerous stampede

There comes a time in every man's life where he's forced to contend with coleslaw. As you may or may not know, coleslaw is what happens when some idiot decides it's a good idea to take a bunch of mayonnaise and sugar and throw it on top of cabbage. For reference, it's that thing that comes on the side of your sandwich in deli-restaurants that you don't eat because it tastes like an even blander version of soggy cardboard. I can't say that I recommend it. But, like a lot of bad food, most local politicians, and--according to my old little league coach-- my hitting game, it's got some real unrecognized potential. Except that I just recognized it. Try not to think about it.

Ingredients:

1/2 a head of Red Cabbage 
5 Carrots
3/4 Cup of Orange Juice
1/2 Cup Apple Cider Vinegar
2 TBSP Honey
2 TBSP Olive Oil
1/2 tsp Salt

The first thing you're gonna need to do it find some vegetarian and/or vegan friends. Because otherwise, what's even the point of making delicious vegan food. Just go make some meatballs and call it a day. Once you've mastered the art of human interaction to the point where vegans don't flee from you, it's time to peel the outer layer of your cabbage off. Because it probably tastes as gross as it looks, and because those things grow in the dirt. Have you seen the dirt lately? Exactly. So peel off that outer layer of bluh, and then choppity chop up the cabbage into bits. Peel your carrots and grate the crap out of them. Take all the bits of carrots, bits of your hands, and bits of nearby furniture and pets that the box grater decided to attack, and throw them in with your cabbage.

Friends to share this with sold seperately

Now it's time to take all the rest of the ingredients, dump them in a bowl, and whisk the crap out of them. This is pretty much the hardest part of this recipe, and it's super easy. This thing is practically impossible to screw up, despite your best efforts. Toss everything together in a bowl, cover it, and shove that sucker in the fridge for a minimum of 3 hours, going back in occasionally to stir the whole thing up (oh, is it too hard for you to occasionally stir your food so it'll be delicious? Suck it up.) and that's it! You've got some delicious slaw, with no mayo in it, with flavors that actually complement each other. It's food good enough for kings. Vegan kings! Or...you know, the good kind of kings. Those too.