Dirty Uncle Mark

Straight from the presses in 1952 this cooker & deep fryer would go on to help coin phrases like "once on the lips, always on the hips" and make Americans the plump greasy food lovers they are today.  God Bless America.  I am glad that the times have changed and people have stopped deep frying fish balls.  That's just pain inhumane.  

Doesn't she look thrilled with her new deep fryer french fried potatoes?  "...Delicious results with all kinds of foods," you're goddamn right.  Everything's better deep fried.  Everything.  It's even promoting recycling your shortening, putting it decades ahead of other environmentally un-friendly deep fryers.  Interestingly, this company wants you to believe that by buying their products you're part of the family.  Sounds somewhat familiar.  I wonder if competitors like Oster or GE ever ran ads with people saying, "I'm just not cool enough to be a Sunbeam person," because that would be awesome.  Perhaps I'm digressing.   

Did anybody else read that and wonder about the "Highly Accurate" portion of the "'Simmer' range."  What, exactly, is accurate about a range.  Furthermore, how accurate are we talking?  If I want to deep fry something at 342, can I do it?  How about 276?  Give me digital LED controls please, accurate down to a tenth of a degree and then I'll concede to you the accurate claim.  Oh, and what gives with the random finger in the picture?  Did we really need help to find the thermostatic control?  

There's another appendage directing our attention unnecessarily in the top picture.  Fascinating explanation of why there's no spout.  That closes the door on the certain hit - "I'm a little deep fryer."  This company really doesn't leave much out there so I guess it's time to get on to a recipe.  

Tying in brilliantly with last weeks "Appe-teasers" we find the recipe in this grouping.

Oooo.  You may have noticed if you're particularly observant that there is a popcorn listing on the built-in Cook Guide.  Popcorn's nothing radical, but what if.... just what if.... Yes, that's right.  

Quite honestly, this sounds delicious.  The fact that you have to "drain on absorbent paper" before eating, grosses me out, a lot.  I can almost imagine serving this up at a party and ending up with greasy paper towels everywhere and the place smelling like a McDonald's.  While repulsed at the greasiness of this, I'm intrigued and perhaps we'll have to make this.  Just wait until my Wii Fit finds out about that.  

And finally the back cover.

I'm slightly concerned about appliances recommending other appliances and then what happens when they all rise up and overthrow their human masters to reign supreme over the scorched lands that remain?  While you're eating your breakfast tomorrow just look at your toaster and consider whether or not it sees you as a great source of energy.  

One appliance doesn't belong with the rest above, can you spot it?  If you said Shavemaster, you're right!  Keep your shavers out of the kitchen.  What's that?  No, the Baby Bottle Warmers don't look phallic. Absolutely not.  

This ain't Dirty Uncle Mark's Antique of the week, so you know which definition applies.  So basically, it's like Easy Cheese® on toast while you're drinking beers, except way classier as you shall see.

Three different fonts on the cover alone!  A mystery liquid filled jar with spoon surrounded by canapes against that Barbie Corvette pink... just lovely.  The mysterious absence of shadows shall be overlooked because I must know more about canapes!

The brochure is double folded, so when opening the first fold this two page spread is a feast for the eyes.  (click the image to view it in larger a separate window)

Gaston is quite the dapper looking chap, isn't he?  That mustache, damn, that's a piece of artwork, but that comes as no surprise considering his lineage.  Strangely, Google doesn't find anything referencing this canape connoisseur, although there is someone by his name on Facebook that appears to enjoy snow skiing. 

Ever since I saw "Four Christmases" I cannot read hors d'oeuvres without hearing "whore-do-vers" as in, "there are beermosas and whore-do-vers in the kitchen."  Did you notice Gaston's wit?  "Appe-teasing?"  With that kind of wordplay this has got to be awesome.

And then everything gets weird when it is revealed that "their purpose is to make one tingle with anticipation..."  Uh... okay... if you say so.  *awkward glances back and forth* 

So they have to be small, fresh, "intriguing little picture[s]," and smartly served.  Crikey!  So, then, how do we make them? 

So while there are plenty of base options, ultimately toast is the best.  Toast?  I don't even eat Easy Cheese® on toast.  So that's all there is to it?  Make some thin crisp toast and cut it up into bite sized pieces and pile some interesting stuff on top.  Don't lose faith, fair readers, because therein lies the recipe of the week worthy suggestions.  Stick with it, we're almost there.

This "Art" of serving canapes fascinates me.  We're putting little pieces of toast on expensive fine wood trays to fool the canape consumers into thinking they're getting something far nicer than they really are?  Is that the trick? And this Bentwood, where can I find the mythical bent tree?  

Let us get down to the pages of suggested toppings. 

Ooo, nothing goes better on toast than "Anchovy Butter" and finely chopped egg.  I can't say anything about "Hard-Boiled Eggs with Caviar" because I've never had caviar, so maybe that's amazing, who am I to judge?  "Bloater Paste" sounds pretty weird, then I discovered that's some sort of fancy slang for cured herring paste.  Herring and peanut butter?  That's classy.  Next page. 

So why hasn't "Chicken Butter" been commercialized already? I thought every possible way of processing and selling chicken had been done, but this one is new to me.  Of course there is "Tongue" on here.  Just the thought makes me cringe.  Seems to me that a "Wagon Wheel Canape" ought to use real wagon wheels in there somewhere.  False advertising?  Moving along.

Nothing tastes better than some fattened goose liver paste on toast.  That's what I learned tonight: what "Pate-de-foie-gras" is.  Does "Shad Roe" have anybody else stumped?  I did my digging and found out in layman's terms that is Herring eggs.  That about says it all, doesn't it?  

Just one more page.

I could really go for some "Anchovy Diamonds," how about you?  Horse-radish, Worcester sauce and Anchovies in the unholiest of marriages.  Chipped beef sounds vomit inducing to me too.  Mustard pickle and salad dressing will do that to a guy like me.  

So now you're all set for the next office party!  Wow them with your canape expertise and insane combinations of exotic flavors.  Then sit back and watch them hurl.

Does anyone else think that woman in the picture is uncomfortable with that dude's advances?  What's he whispering in her ear anyway?  That other dude clearly doesn't give a damn, he's too busy chowin' down. Nom-nom-nom-nom.  Also, why is that one turtle vertical?  Is it climbing to the top to meet the chopper?  Suspect.  This may be an early example of bad photoshopping, pre-photoshop.  Maybe they could put a brighter yellow on that cover too.

Inside the front cover we find a message.

Oh, we're friends are we?  Dedicated to the women, eh?  That's right, men don't bake, do they.  What's that you say?  "Unique and interesting recipes."  I know I'm looking in the right cookbook now.  Aren't those some pictures of happy people?  I think the dude in the 1951 picture is about to eat the microphone.  

Adjacent to that inside cover is page 1.

Hold on a second.  Who let 1 MAN into the competition?  Blasphemy!  Men don't Bake!  I'm rather curious how the recipes had to be "adapted" for my use.  I mean for my wife's use, since women do the baking "for the pure delight of pleasing the people that they love."  So if my wife loves me, then clearly she will bake for me.  Weren't the 1950s swell? 

Onward to our first recipe.  Yes, I said first because this week I'm bringing you an astounding 3 recipes for the price of 1!  Order now and I'll throw in a free portable booklight! 

My grandpa taught me to start with dessert to make sure you have room, so here we are in the cookies section.

Personally, I don't think pineapples should be masquerading as anything.  Now I can't quite wrap my head around the idea of ruining perfectly good chocolate drop cookies with pineapple.  If it ain't broke then don't break it, I say.  All of the other ingredients seem reasonable and prudent, but really?  Folding in crushed pineapple?  Enough. 

Lets move onto the pie section.  This one is a full two page spread so I advise giving the image a click to get a good look at this delish dish.

Who would have thought a Salmon-Cheese pie could be so expensive?  Really?  $1000?  Doesn't it just look *gag* delicious? Avert your eyes, and hey, look at the lady with the fake smile behind the Brand-New-Electric-Range!!!  Okay, returning to the color picture, that's what I would imagine ET's brains look like.  Why am I hungry for Reeses Pieces now?  Like before I can't say anything too bad about the individual ingredients, but who would have thought that in such a configuration they would result in that?

Moving along to our third and final recipe this week it is also a main dish, fortunately without a photo.

Who what?  A Waffle Enchilada? Didn't some connoisseur of Mexican food beat the crap out of this, uh, man?  Another alienated man who bakes.  Perhaps Ms. Annie P. should rephrase her introduction and be a bit more inclusive of the other gender.  Just like pig and elephant DNA, enchiladas and waffles just don't mix.  I bet even Kid Rock would back me up on this one, being the Waffle House fan he appears to be.  

Finally, we take a quick look at the back cover of the cookbook to see what nobody else ever does.

Well that's kinda boring, but who is "They."  The poorly photoshopped turtles?  Hold on, what kind of adult entertainment flour are they selling?  Quadruple X?  That's insane.  Perhaps the 25¢ cookbook was the forerunner of the 25¢ peep show.  All this from the company whose mascot has unintentionally become the embodiment of the average American physique.  Go on, I dare you to poke me in the belly.  

Say it with me, OCEAN: Open, Continuous, Exclusive, Adverse and Notorious.  Sorry, law school residual. 

Then when I took the photo another thought struck me: God believes in Breaking and Entering.  Obviously law school can really mess you up because everything you see evokes concepts and principles that you spent three years and an outrageous amount of money learning.  

And then, of course, the dirty connotation occurred to me.  Perhaps we could call it the sex offender's defense.  Can't blame law school for that one.  Maybe this church needs to look beyond the intended meanings of their sign and be more aware of the double entendres they're putting out there, but where's the fun in that?

You should hear the music that plays as it turns the screen an ominous color.  It may as well be playing the tune "fatty-fatty-bo-batty" as it plots the weight of your fat ass and BMI on the graph like a peak on Mt. Obesity, hopefully the highest peak in the Great Chubby Mountains.  

Being an indolent porky lad, I chose to revive my cross country days from over a decade ago and begin running.  What a bad idea.  Actually, I had big dreams of marathon proportion but they've already been shattered because when I did go for a couple of runs my feet were so painfully sore from bearing the weight of my corpulence I could barely stand.  

With a loathing spirit I stepped back on the Wii Fit balance after failing at running.  The extremely low impact Wii Fit Yoga workout will surely whip me back into shape.  So far Mt. Obesity remains the highest point on the graph but the Chubby Mountains have yet to flatten out into the skinny plains of "normal" BMIs.

Clearly the need for me to shape up is second only to my blogging and by gauging how much of that I've been doing, it's going to be a while.