Cooking Fail/Win + The Gayest Thing You'll See This Week

So, tonight was another theme dinner with friends from college. We'll talk about my pretty massive fail after I talk about the first two fabulous wins. of the evening. We started with cheese-puffs and mini-Reuben pastries (Yum and yum-yum!). Then we moved on to my soup, which I was quite proud of, with the exception of my Super-Ball matzoh balls. I don't understand what went wrong. After consulting three experts, I did everything they told me. I followed the directions on the matzoh meal to the letter. Instead of light and fluffy like every matzoh ball I've ever had (and hadn't made), they were dense and chewy. I didn't have to remake them, so I just went. I warned everyone about them and advised them not to eat them and not to feel bad spitting them out should they in fact, eat one. Everyone took one out of politeness. I declined, saying "Don't say you weren't warned." The soup, everyone agreed was excellent. I do make a mean pot of chicken soup, if I say so myself - though for the first time ever, I cut everything up into spoon-sized pieces, which actually improved the soup because you got a bite of everything with every spoonful.

Then they dug into the matzoh balls, which they had to cut into with a knife. Everyone agreed that they looked and tasted right, but were decidedly dense. Truth be told, my friends are too nice - those matzoh balls were the wrongest matzoh balls, ever. Dale, the only Jew among us for our 'Jewish Food' dinner, joked that they were like Nibbler's poo... At least I know the soup was good. Next came a delicious and tender brisket; tsimmis; kugle and string beans in garlic. For desert: apricot; triple-berry and prune/raisin hammentaschen and black and white cookies. By the time we finished, we were all stuffed with yummy goodness. So despite the Great Matzoh Ball Fail of 2011, everything went well and we all fed each other way too much.

I have no idea what our next theme will be, but if it's going to be as good as the last few have been, I can't wait. 

I know I'm long overdue for a movie review, but D and I will be seeing Insidiouis one night in the coming week. But for now, just enjoy the Gayest Thing You'll See This Week (via); the hilarious anti-stereotyping video called "Gay Dude in Wrestling Singlet Talks About Barbra Streisand" (language NSFW):

More, anon.
Prospero

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Okay - Which One of You Fooled the B*tch?

If you live in the Northeast today, these daffodils were a familiar sight to many of you. And you also know the "b*tch" in today's April Fools' Day post. It's Mother Nature, of course. And if you were around in the U.S. in the 1970's, you knew her from her string of commercials for Chiffon brand margarine. I don't know if Chiffon still exists of not. I haven't bought margarine since the 70's. Chiffon's motto/jingle was "If you think it's butter, but it's not, it's Chiffon!" My mother used to save the  plastic tubs after the oily goo was gone and re-purpose them as storage containers for left-overs. Green out of necessity? Tupperware was never cheap... You never knew what might be lurking in a Chiffon container in our fridge.

That's character actress Dena Deitrich as Mother Nature, Borden's face of Chiffon throughout the 70's, who somehow kept getting tricked into thinking Chiffon was butter. My Depression-child father grew up on margarine, which meant we did, too. It's repulsive sutff, really; waxy and tasteless -- in other words, nothing like butter whatsoever. Of  course, once I found out  that even flies won't eat the stuff, I never used it again.

Butter may be a little bad for you, but you know where it comes from and how (essentially) it is made. There was absolutely nothing natural about Chiffon (or any other margarine product) in the 70's. Made from hydrogenated oils, with artificial flavors, coloring and preservatives., they bore little resemblance to any real food, let alone butter. I cannot speak to today's versions, as I have not had them.

But that's not what this post is about. It's about Mother Nature run amok on April Fools' Day, snowing and raining then snowing more and then the sun came out and it rained with the sun out. It was a weird weather day, alright. Maybe the stupid bitch got fooled again. She's a stupid bitch.

There were some very funny things on the web, today. Ryan Seacrest had both his website and Twitter account hijacked by the Bronx Zoo Cobra. BoingBoing (among a few other sites) skewered the New York Times' by announcing a so-called "pay-wall" of their own.  Google, as usual, had some of the best ones. I really liked "Gmail Motion:"

And there was this one from last year, "Google Translate for Animals:"

I didn't get pranked today, but I heard this story about someone who was. An IT Technician sent a rather gullible person an email saying a new "voice activated feature" had been added to the copiers. For added measure, he printed up an official looking sign that read: "This copier has been upgraded and is now voice activated. The keypad for this copier has been deactivated. Please speak clearly; the copier will not respond if it cannot understand your request. Thank you. IT." Apparently the poor  thing stood at the copier saying "Print 10 copies" and "Print!" and "Print, please" and any variation she could think of, over-enunciating and getting very frustrated before another co-worker couldn't hold back and started laughing. I don't know what the woman's response to getting punked was. It seemed pretty harmlessly amusing to me. But then, I'm a jerk.

Any of you guys get punked; pranked; tricked; fooled; bamboozled; conned; played or otherwise abused today? Or did you punk; prank; trick; fool... etc., someone? Did you see or hear about an amazing punk; prank... yadda, yadda, yadda...? Your very own funny Uncle P wants you to share. Unburden yourself here. We won't judge... much.

Happy Weekend, especially to you folks who keep coming back to read the opinions of an aging gay pop culture geek. I have lots of cooking, eating and theatre coming up this weekend, so I'm off to do a few other things before bed tonight. A full report on tomorrow's dinner party, tomorrow night.

More, anon.

Prospero

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