Honestly, though, the chapter on appetizers almost seemed more appropriate for a Pillsbury cookbook, as it invited cooks to turn refrigerated crescent rolls into Empanadillos de Pollo...
...flavored authentically, I'm sure, with Wish-Bone Russian Dressing.
Then it suggested Steamed Pork Buns, with refrigerated buttermilk biscuits as the the bun part...
...flavored authentically, I'm sure, with Wish-Bone Russian Dressing. (Okay, it definitely is a Wish-Bone cookbook!)
My favorite part of the book, though, is that it is filled with full-color photos of some of the dishes, like the Sandwich Loafer.
It looks like the abdomen of a giant insect with a pretty serious medical condition, but it's just a sandwich loaf for people who are a little too lazy to construct a proper sandwich loaf (thus, "loafer").
The bread only has to be cut partway through, like a Hasselback potato, rather than fully sliced horizontally. It only requires ONE filling (rather than different fillings for each layer). And it doesn't need to be "frosted." So easy!
For the cooks who miss all the ring molds from the '50s and '60s, there's "End of a Sunny Day" Salad.
Salad dressing is not only for salads... but it is also for salads.
This salad probably tastes like cold leftover sweet-and-sour chicken...
...flavored authentically with (what else?) Russian dressing, enclosed in a ring of rice that also tastes like Russian dressing.
Or, if you want your party spread to look like a wad of gunk you just pulled out of the garbage disposal, there's the Holiday Cocktail Cheese Ball.
Or maybe it's alive? Those olives do look kinda like eyes. In any case, this glob seems way too wet for a cheeseball (and I'm a little afraid it might be sentient).
But at least it will (in theory) sell some Wish-Bone Thousand Island Dressing.
Or maybe it will help you understand the vague sense of nausea and foreboding I experience when somebody tries to get me to eat something with pretty much any kind of salad dressing on it. ("You have so much willpower!" people exclaim when I ask for the salad without dressing, while I struggle to understand how they can categorize salad dressing as not only food, but as a food they want to eat.)
I love how the "lazy" sandwich requires carving in order to be served. How about getting sliced bread, slapping the filling on it, then stacking them on a plate. Okay, it wouldn't look as impressive, and doing things practically wasn't allowed.
ReplyDeleteOne thing I learned about salad dressing was that if your eating companies really make a fuss about not ordering salad dressing, request a wedge of lemon to use instead. Apparently the idea of naked salad is too much for some people to imagine. You don't actually have to squeeze the lemon over your meal. Put it in your water, aim it at the person critiquing your eating habits, etc.
I always have to restrain myself from saying what I actually think: "Imagine somebody barfed on top of your salad and then expected you to eat it. That's what salad dressing is to me."
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