Contest!
We've all been there. We've all arrived home, realizing that it was probably a bad idea to have driven after x amount of drinks that ended in 'tini' but didn't start with 'mar'.
And now all we want is melted cheese.
It doesn't matter what it's on. Toast? Bun? Smushed between some 'dillas? Spoon? If only. One thing remains certain, though: wondrous greasy, melty orange will medicate us.
Given the stark contents of the fridge, how do we improvise?
Share your worst/best/worst drunk gooey inventions.
Mine? Render bacon fat. Fry a cheese & natch peanut butta sandwich all up in that mess. Remove. Add bacon. Devour while watching some VH1 reality show rerun. Pass out.
And now all we want is melted cheese.
It doesn't matter what it's on. Toast? Bun? Smushed between some 'dillas? Spoon? If only. One thing remains certain, though: wondrous greasy, melty orange will medicate us.
Given the stark contents of the fridge, how do we improvise?
Share your worst/best/worst drunk gooey inventions.
Mine? Render bacon fat. Fry a cheese & natch peanut butta sandwich all up in that mess. Remove. Add bacon. Devour while watching some VH1 reality show rerun. Pass out.
posted by Anonymous at 1:24 PM
2 Comments:
The idea was a latke concoction with grated yam, covered in Tillamook's finest. Sadly, all I had was carrots and no egg to bind the mess with. (I used more butter.) It worked better than I thought it would, which is saying something considering my tendency toward unwarranted optimism while imbibing, but left me with a bizarre feeling in my gut that I have yet to accurately re-create.
I used to cover everything with melted cheese. Everything. But I think my favorite was pretzels covered with salsa and cheese (not microwaved, but stuck in the oven). Not very cook-ish, but good for hangovers/depressed moments.
Post a Comment
<< Home