WTF?! Friday

WTF?! is this one-skillet sludge? And who threw together the layers lingering in this limp, lifeless dish? I think I'm going to throw...up. 

Tipsy Tuesday: swill your breakfast

This Tipsy Tuesday I've got a stomach turner, on the rocks. How about a...

Coffee Cocktail
In a cocktail shaker, pour over ice:
The yolk of 1 egg
1 dash coffee liqueur
1 jigger port wine
1 jigger brandy
1 barspoon sugar
& a dash of grated nutmeg over drink [at this point, why not?]

Shake, strain and serve in a 4 oz. cocktail glass - and I'd considering serving with toast points as chasers, to settle your stomach.

Moldy Monday

What has unnaturally congealed in this infinite ring of salad?

And how blech can it be if peas are the piece de resistance?

Pretty sure I could resist it.

Rah Rah

I am about as crafty at the card table as I am in the kitchen. Which puts me somewhere in the middle as a wanna-be with room for improvement. When my friend Amy encouraged her blog friends to consider crafting on nellielovesvintage, I decided to oblige. This crispy-cool Sunday morning, Marge & I wrapped, snipped & tied bright yarn pom-poms until our cup runneth over.

Check your expiration dates, tomorrow I'm back with something mold-y.

WTF?!? Friday

WTF is mingling in this stock pot? Never mind the basket, this dish looks like it's no picnic to me.

Phallic Food is the Wurst

Yesterday, I was tugging at your heartstrings.
Today, it's your gag reflex.

I snatched up Better Homes & Garden's Jiffy Cooking at a flea market yesterday for a quarter. [I got a handful of vintage m&ms out of the quarter machine, too]. And a few of the images in this '67 cook book are priceless. It's like Freud did the food styling.

So, make sure the kids aren't peering over your shoulder, and have a look-see for yourself -

Spare me the asparagus tonight, honey. I've got a headache.

Meet Jack.

Heirlooms are one thing. Halloween Heirlooms are something else altogether. And when a friend shares something fabulous - and a little bit freaky - with you, it gives you a warm glow. Not unlike a jack-o'-lantern.

This paper mache pumpkin perfection was thoughtfully passed along to me from a dear friend. It belonged to the brother of her dear grandmother. It doesn't matter that it is vintage [fantastically vintage - Halloween is my favorite holiday]. It matters that it was important to someone. And I know who that someone was.

Do your holiday decorations have a story?

Moldy Monday

What in the hell is lounging inside this gelatinous loaf?

Just guess.

Fuzzy Navel

You'll find no lint in peaches' belly buttons. All the more reason to bake with them.

So I grabbed a few of their fuzzy navels and proceeded to consult the Women's Club Leaders in Kansas, Nebraska, North Dakota & South Dakota's 1966 Favorite Recipies of the Great Plains Desserts Edition cook book for answers on my whats and hows on these fleshy fall fruits [wow - that almost sounds dirty]. And the ladies led me plainly, and simply, to the recipe for Mrs. Ferne Combs...



PEACH DESSERT
2 c sugar
Butter
1 egg
1/2 c milk
2 c plus 2 tbsp flour
4 tsp baking powder
Fresh sliced peaches [I used 3 biggies & shaved 'em]

Cream 1/2 cup sugar, 1 tablespoon butter and egg. Sift 2 cups flour with baking powder; add milk and stir into creamed mixture. Pat onto bottom and sides of greased deep baking dish [preferably pyrex, people]. Sprinkle one cup sugar and remaining flour over bottom. Arrange peaches over sugar mixture; sprinkle with remaining sugar and dot with butter. Bake at 350 degrees for 30 to 40 minutes to achieve this:

[Thanks, sweet OLD Mrs. Combs, but why didn't you remind me to use the baking powder in the instructions? Had I put 2 + 2 together on a Saturday evening, I would have remembered. No such luck this weekend...that said: add the 4 tsp of baking powder to the sifted flour to avoid baking a brick!]

This dessert was peachy. Keen. But when it comes to full flavor, falls somewhere in-between meh and marvelous! I'm not one to point fingers [Mrs. Combs] but the baking powder would have improved the texture. Until them, I'll use the modern marvel of the microwave to soften my servings.

Macabre Kitsch.

Every housewife's fantasy.

Every working man's nightmare.

[designed with me in mind]

My friend Dally, midwest resident artist of zombie kitsch, is a little bit Vincent Price & a little bit Vincent Van Gogh. And he sells the demons in his head on cotton t's and onesies. Find his
Art from the Basement on facebook. You'll want to score a quirky serving of his gore.

Summer. Where did yours go?

Mine was spent with my little league infielder.

And my big league chewer.


What have you been up to?