Tonight I have been concocting my recipe (also, please notice the preponderance of extraneaous verbiage resulting from variegated inebriation) for the FSC Iron Chef competition.
Unfortunately this time around, I will not be there to see if my item of choice shall win a prize or not. However, unless some motherfucker whacks out a plate of lemon bars on a fucking seafood cocktail dish (see results for salsa in the Spring), I should be home and hosed.
Or just hosed.
Or just...
Fuck it, let's have another beer.
So - here's hoping my lemon Bund cake (not mit der umlauts) takes home the grand prize. I just pray that the lemoney vanilla-ey glaze that's currently (supposedly) thickening on the stovetop as we speak/write will indeed thicken. Sometimes it seems like I'm repeating myself. Am I?
As I said before - fuck it, let's have another beer.
ps - music is always a good Sous Chef - just how fucking great is John Frusciante's solo on "Dani California" by RHCP???
1 comment:
Following up to this post - I actually won the Lemon category.
Apparently some people are wondering what the "Drunken" in the title "Frosty Drunken Lemon Bundt Cake" means... how much booze was in this bastard anyway?
Haha, joke's on you. The booze is in the baker!
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