Archive for the ‘My Cookbook’ Category

My Cookbook: Kool-Aid

March 30, 2011

Once again, let’s visit both my extreme lack of culinary knowledge and my obsessive compulsive tendencies with another exciting installment of “My Cookbook.”  This entry’s complex dish: a batch of Kool-Aid.


What You Need:

  • A one gallon pitcher
  • A hatred for drinking plain water
  • One glass
  • A large wooden spoon
  • One measuring cup
  • Sugar
  • Two “Tropical Punch” Kool-Aid packets
  • Cold water
  • A wife who is a far superior chef but insists that the Kool-Aid you make is better

What To Do:

  • Carefully rip open your packets and pour them into your pitcher.  Don’t even consider anything besides “Tropical Punch.”  (Until “Purplesaurus Rex” is un-discontinued, I refuse to recognize any other flavor.)  Be sure to shake each packet to an obscene degree, assuring that none of that powder goes to waste.
  • Fill your measuring cup with two cups of sugar and pour them into the pitcher
  • Fill your measuring cup again with just another teaspoon or two of sugar for no apparent reason other than the fact that you need to appease your neurotic brain that has convinced you that you poured a little less than two cups of sugar into the pitcher and the only way to make the world right again is to correct this monumental error.
  • Take your cold water and fill your pitcher to the one gallon line.  (Do NOT fill your pitcher directly from the tap as this will spoil the “instant gratification” effect achieved upon completion.
  • Take your wooden spoon and stir the Kool-Aid in a clockwise motion, making 50 revolutions.  Then stir in a counter-clockwise motion, also making 50 revolutions.  Then, switch hands and stir clockwise until you feel a significant amount of pain in your wrist.  Finally, switch hands one more time and stir counter-clockwise again until you feel wrist pain.  (I am not kidding.  I actually do this.)
  • Scoop out a spoonful and give the batch a taste test.
  • If the Kool-Aid has achieved desired taste (which of course it has), pour yourself a glass and quickly chug it before you even get back to your living room.
  • Put the pitcher into the fridge and don’t have another glass for at least 24 hours; because the sooner that pitcher is empty, the sooner you have to make more.  (And nothing is worse than having your designated “Kool-Aid Pitcher” void of any Kool-Aid.)

Wow.  I guess there really is something wrong with me.


My Cookbook: Grilled Cheese Sandwiches

March 22, 2011

Earlier today, I sat in front of the computer with the intention to update this site.  After wasting about 30 minutes staring at a blank Microsoft Word screen, I gave up and watched TV.  After “Cash Cab” and halfway through “The Simpsons,” I came to a realization.  I’ve always tended to follow the old “write what you know” adage and keep my posts to subjects I could explain in a quasi-intelligent way.  Music, TV, Movies, Poop; these are the things I know.

Then I began thinking: What is the one thing I have no business writing? 

And if you know me the answer is quite obvious. A cookbook.

Yes it’s true, I have no knowledge of cuisine, a complete lack of cooking skill, and the pickiest eating habits known to man.  But, among my friends and family, my dining tendencies are considered common knowledge, as almost anyone can hold up one hand and count their own recollection of the highest rated “James Foods.”

So now I give you what I hope is the first in many installments of “My Cookbook.”

Today’s dish is…


What you need:

  • A butter knife
  • A pan
  • A plate
  • A spatula
  • A feeling of hunger that requires more then a snack, but less than a meal
  • An urge to be proactive and actually use the stove (This is usually due to an empty wallet that cannot afford Gold Rush Chicken.)
  • 4 pieces of bread
  • 2 slices of American Cheese
  • 1 tub of spreadable butter
  • An unfounded sense of superiority that you are better than people who eat at nice places

What to do:

  1. Begin watching a TV show recorded on your DVR.  Do not attempt to begin cooking until at least the first commercial break.  Relaxation is key: a certain level of focus and clarity must be maintained when attempting this meal.
  2. Once you are ready, place your pan on the stove and turn it on, but not all the way to “high.”  You gotta let that shit slow cook.
  3. Lightly spread butter on all 4 pieces of bread.  Then, buttered sides out, place one slice of cheese between the slices of bread and put the sandwich into the pan.
  4. In an obsessive compulsive like manner, frantically check the slice of the bread on the pan every 30-45 seconds with the spatula.  This will result in several warped and unequally toasted areas on the bread.  Don’t worry, this happens every time.
  5. Step away from the stove and start watching TV.  Be sure to become very enthralled by whatever is happening on your program of choice.  This will give the bread ample time to burn to a crisp and give it that perfect “James cooked this” touch.
  6. Sprint back to the kitchen, bash your elbow into the counter, and quickly flip the sandwich before giving yourself a chance to writhe in pain.
  7. Diligently watch the second piece in the pan, giving absolutely no chance to burn.
  8. Once the second piece has achieved the desired toasting, use the spatula to remove your grilled cheese sandwich and place it on the plate.
  9. Return to your living room and devour your half-burnt cuisine as quickly as possible. 

10. Stare somberly at your empty plate and wish that you enjoyed real food.

(Repeat steps 1-10 for the second sandwich)