Frankensoup

It's funny. And super dark if you think about it too hard

This weekend, everybody was talking about the Superbowl. Love it, hate it, or act warmly to it at social gatherings but then devastatingly leave it off of your holiday card list, the point is that it was on the minds of the people. Or at least the people who survived the cold, because last week was home to some fun new experiences for me, such as Chicago being colder than Antarctica. Given that nobody I know has access to roaring wood fires and teams of sled dogs, we all had to bear the elements as best we could in less traditional ways. Some people clung to their folding chairs, desperately waiting for neighbors to shovel out parking spots so that they could gleefully "claim dibs" on public property that they in no way own. Some people threw pots of boiling water outside at the snow, I'm guessing in some vain attempt to communally work towards raising the temperature. Me, I huddled for warmth in my apartment, desperately throwing blankets and clothing in front of drafty windows and turning the dwindling contents of my kitchen into increasingly interesting soups which I cooked and ate for every meal. When the winds of winter howl and the cold nights come, nothing warms you up as well and for as long as a good hot bowl of soup. Except maybe someone setting you on fire over a parking spot.

Ingredients:

1 standard-issue Onion
4 ribs Celery
3 large Carrots
2 Turnips
1 Parsnip
8 oz. Cremini Mushrooms
2 cloves Garlic
1 Lime
6 threads of Saffron
6 Hot Dogs
1/3 cup Coconut Milk
1/2 cup Peanut Butter (Creamy peanut butter, ideally. Crunchy peanut butter is great, but not so much for cooking with. The "butter" part absorbs in to your food, and then you're left with weird soggy peanut chunks. If a friend tells you to do that, they were never your real friend anyway)
2 tsp Sriracha
1.5 tsp Cumin
1/2 tsp Black Pepper
Oil for sauteing
Salt
Water

Yes, that is a big old list of ingredients. No, I wouldn't have thought to put some of them together. But when you're pretty sure that the only things alive outside are polar bears and the sentient snowmen from Frozen, you don't plan a trip to the market to get groceries. The market is gone. The bears ate the groceries. You make due with what you have on hand, and you make it work. And it totally ended up working. So let's get started with step one, which is to peel your onion and carrots and chop them into bite-sized bits. Now it's time for the exciting part: heating up a TBSP of oil in a pot over medium heat. Because the cold seeps in wherever it can, and if you're exposed enough to be chopping, you're probably going to need a minimum of one fire to stave off hypothermia. (If your landlord complains about the many fires you've lit around the place, just remind them that when the temperature drops below -15, we're legally in The Purge and you can do what you like). Toss your onion, carrots, and celery in the pot along with a pinch of salt, and saute them for 5 minutes, occasionally stirring and muttering under your breath about the cold. Take this time to clean your mushrooms and celery, to chop them up along with your hot dogs, and to contemplate a violent incursion into your neighbors' apartments to claim their blankets and foodstuffs as your own. Go back to your fire to warm up, and while you're there toss your hot dog bits, mushrooms, and celery into the pot along with another pinch of salt. Let that all cook together for 3 minutes before chopping up your garlic and adding it in to the party. Peel your turnips and parsnip, chop them in to medium-sized chunks, and throw them into your sauteing vegetables, along with your cumin, black pepper, saffron, and a medium-sized bear's pinch of salt. Stir that nonsense as it cooks for about a minute, ostensibly to let the flavors blend or something, but really just as an excuse to stand near the fire.

Not pictured: the three pairs of socks, two pairs of pants,
and flannel shirt I was wearing while eating this soup.

Now it's time to cover your food in a deluge of water, completely submerging everything underneath an inch of water, and in no way providing a perfect analog for the walls of your apartment which are closing in on you more and more as time goes by. Add in your sriracha, coconut milk, and peanut butter, and crank your heat up to high. Stir to combine everything together into beautiful homogeneity, and then taste it, adding in salt to your particular tastes. Let your burgeoning soup come to a boil before throwing a lid on it, turning the heat down to low, and cooking it at a simmer for about 25 minutes, so go find something to do. When you get back from setting more fires and pillaging the neighbors, turn the heat off, then add in the juice from your lime, and serve up your soup. It's hearty, tangy, spicy, and a whole lot of delicious. It tastes good enough that you'll almost forget the unspeakable things that you had to do to get that space heater from the people in apartment 3-F. Also, in addition to the deliciousness and the easing of your haunted mind, it will keep you warm and nourished so that you can survive the cold and fend off invaders. Happy apocalypse!

Changua

It's funny because it's true

Every now and again you stumble across a recipe that seems so simple and easy that it seems like it's legitimately suspicious. For instance, if a Tasty™ video starts off with them flattening a slice of white bread, I'm pretty sure it's going to end up with me going on a cross-country road trip to find the person who stole my identity. That said, sometimes delicious food is just simple. This is especially true of old cultural recipes passed down over generations. Most cultures have had some good times and some bad, and if a recipe has lasted throughout both, there's a decent chance that it's going to taste good, and that it's something you could reasonably whip up while on the run from various dangers like neighboring tribes, wild beasts, or slowly dying of dysentery. Notable exceptions are pretty much any traditional British or Australian foods, as these were developed as pranks for unsuspecting tourists.


Ingredients:

2 cups Milk
1.5 cups Water
4 Eggs (Chicken eggs for preference. You know, the things we all think of when somebody says "Eggs." Though I guess you could really use whatever bird eggs you have handy in a pinch. So if you're a creepy bird enthusiast you might have some options)
3 Green Onions
1/2 cup Cilantro
1/4 tsp Black Pepper
Salt

Changua is a traditional Columbian soup that's allegedly been passed down generation to generation amongst the native peoples of the Andes for...pretty much ever. It's typically eaten for breakfast, often on weekends, and is thought to be a pretty decent hangover cure, so it's easy to see why it has remained popular. The fact that it takes like 5 minutes to make and is super tasty doesn't hurt either. That said, the first thing you're going to do here is casually glorp together your milk and water in a pot along with your black pepper and a big pinch of salt. The kind of pinch that a professional athlete or circus performer might have. Add it in with your milk and water and crank up the heat. While you're waiting for that to boil, chop up your green onions and your cilantro. This should take you about a minute, which means you only have about 150 minutes left to go for your pot to boil. Or you can just get busy. Scientific research has shown that being too busy to deal with it can cause your food to heat up almost immediately. Once you've got your pot boiling, it's time to drop in your eggs like little paratroopers plummeting to their untimely egg deaths. So crack each egg into a bowl or cup and then gently pour it in to the boiling liquid. Don't rush or drop them from too high or else you'll end up with scrambled eggs inside of your soup. And probably some burns around your face and hands.

Here we see the noble egg, playing dead to try and evade
the deadly predators native to its environment.

Once all of your eggs are cooking in the liquid, cover the pot. Let them continue to poach for 4-5 minutes, depending on how well-done you like your eggs. Use this time to prep your bowls. That sounds intense. Divide up your chopped onions and cilantro evenly between 4 bowls. That's all you actually need to do. Prep accomplished. Once your eggs are cooked to your liking, turn off the heat under your pot. Using a spoon, strainer, or your bare hands and grit that defy concerns like utensils, hygiene, and second degree burns, put one egg in the bottom of each of your bowls. Then top them off with your milky soup and enjoy! Traditionally, this soup is served with bread, or sometimes topped with more cilantro. You can totally do that if you'd like. Personally, I like some heat, so I added in a bit of sriracha straight in my broth. That's part of the fun of traditional recipes. They've been passed down for forever, and different people have totally developed their own versions over the centuries/millennia. As long as the core of the recipe is right and the food tastes good, there's not really a wrong way to do it. Unless you have dysentery. Then there's totally a wrong way to do it. Enjoy!

Chicken Dog Redemption

Prices subject to change

Some foods just suck. It's best that you learn this fact now and accept it, instead of living a lifetime of foolish optimism only to have your heart broken on the regular by white chocolate. And let's be honest: few things strike as much fear into the hearts of a family than the words "chicken dogs." There's something just kind of...off about them. They're doing their absolute best to convince you that they're totally hot dogs, but all it takes is one bite to remind you that they definitely aren't. Maybe it's something in the texture. They're also crazy cheap. I'm pretty sure that in some of the more sausage-heavy states in the union, it's illegal to charge somebody for chicken dogs. Ending up with chicken dogs is price enough. Which got me thinking that if there were some way to actually make these jellied chicken tubes tasty, it could be an absolute game changer. Fortunately for all of us, I apparently have the kind of free time necessary to make that absurd pipe-dream a reality.

Ingredients:

1 pkg Chicken Dogs
1 32 oz. can Crushed Tomatoes
1 standard issue Onion
1 Bell Pepper
2 cloves Garlic
3 cups Water
1.5 cups Green Lentils
1/2 tsp Cumin
1/2 tsp Oregano
1/4 tsp Black Pepper
1/4 tsp Cayenne Pepper
1/4 tsp Cardamom 
1 average-sized human's pinch of Saffron
Salt
Oil
Cilantro

This dish has layers, both literally and figuratively, but don't let that freak you out. There are pretty much three distinct parts: the lentils, the sauce, and the chicken dogs. It sounds overwhelming, but I cooked it in like 25 minutes, and I didn't even have this recipe to guide me. Also, I had to walk to the store to buy ingredients. In the cold. Uphill, both ways. So step one is to just slow your roll and calm yourself down using whatever combination of breathing, meditation, and opiates you like. Now It's time to make some lentils, and since lentils are pretty much just an uppity kind of split pea, that means we're gonna spend some time washing them. So rinse your lentils and pull out any weird things that may be in there like small stones or tiny tiny bears. Then throw them (the lentils) in a pot along with your water, saffron, and possibly a pinch of salt. Some people say that adding salt in to your lentils too early will make them mushy, and you should add salt in after they cook. I don't know if that's true or not, but I do know that it's a very small amount of extra work that I have no interest in. Follow your heart. Bring your pot of possibly doomed lentils to a boil, then cover them and cook on low for about 15-20 minutes.

It's been pointed out that a red plate wasn't the best aesthetic
choice, but I'm not made of plates, dag nabbit.

Chop your onion into chunks and, using a deep pan, saute those chunks in oil and a pinch of salt over medium heat. Let them cook down for about 5 minutes, stirring occasionally, before adding in your chopped bell pepper along with your cumin, black pepper, cayenne, cardamom, oregano, and another pinch of salt. Stir that nonsense together and cook it down for another couple minutes before adding in your garlic, which you've totally minced by now. You can tell you're on the right track if your entire kitchen smells amazing at this point. Let your garlic join in the fun and mingle for about a minute before dousing everything with your crushed tomatoes. Now that your vegetable party has become a pool party, stir it together to get everyone mingling, and keep it on medium heat for about 5 minutes. During this time, take some oil and get it nice and hot in a pan. Then, carefully because the gods of grease fires and third degree burns owe you a smiting, add in your chicken dogs. Let them crisp up for about a minute and a half on each side. They'll bubble up a little bit. This is normal. Well, it's not normal, but it's normal for weird chicken pseudo-sausages. Now it's time to just stack everything together. Lay some lentils down on a plate, slather them with some of your sauce, and then top the whole thing with your crispy chicken dogs. Chop up a little cilantro, throw it on top, and call it a day. Or night, or whatever. I'm not judging.

Slow Cooker Pumpkin Beef Stew

Part headless horseman, part robot apocalypse. Somehow cute

So, Halloween has finally come and gone, which means that it's time for the time honored tradition of buying the discounted garbage pumpkins that grocery stores weren't able to sell to jack-o-lantern obsessed college students and soccer moms. It also means coming to the grim realization that you are the current owner of an estimated 53.7 pounds of pumpkins, and you need to figure out something to do with both of them. Fortunately, pumpkin is kind of super versatile. In this crazy world of pumpkin spiced everything that we live in, we usually only focus on the sweet uses for pumpkin. But pumpkin can go savory, and even spicy. The only limit is your imagination, and the very real possibility of losing all of your friends when you give them a "pumpkin spice latte'" with jalapenos in it.

Ingredients:

1 Pie Pumpkin (the type of pumpkin you use isn't actually of much concern to me. But average pumpkins are about twice the size of pie pumpkins, which are essentially Pomeranian pumpkins, so keep that in mind when deciding how much of your stolen jack-o-lantern you're using)

1 lb. Beef Shank

3 cups Chicken Stock

1 standard-issue Onion

3 ribs Celery

1 Parsnip

1 Chipotle Pepper

2 cloves Garlic

2 Bay Leaves

1/4 tsp Black Pepper

1/4 tsp Cinnamon

Salt

The first thing you're going to have to do is to have survived Halloween. Which, if sensationalist fear-mongering news stories are any indication, is no easy feat. You've got satanic cults, razor blades in your candy, neighborhood teens attacking your home and family to try and pry Smarties from your cold dead hands. It's a mess. Fortunately, like everything else you see on TV or read on the internet, that's pretty much a pile of lies (And yes, I'm aware that you read this on the internet. You sniffed out the hidden paradox. Congratulations! Have a pumpkin. They're lying around pretty much everywhere these days). Now that we've established that you're either still alive or too stubborn to let a pesky thing like dying keep you from making this stew, choppity chop up your chipotle pepper, onion and garlic. Rinse off your celery and chop it into chunks before adding it into the party. Then, using whatever vegetable torture device you have handy, remove the skin from your parsnip and pumpkin. Not so smiley now, are they? The parsnip holds its shape pretty well, so you can cut it as big or small as you want to really. The pumpkin, however, doesn't have that kind of structural integrity, so to make sure there's any visible pumpkin left in your stew when it's cooked, cut that thing into large chunks.

Bowl number 1 of the 3 eaten that night. By me.

Now it's time for the "just dump everything together in a slow cooker and walk the crap away from it" portion of the evening. So do that. Toss all of your chopped everything into your slow cooker along with your beef shank, chicken stock, bay leaves, pepper, cinnamon, and a healthy pinch of salt. If you're one of those ghosts we mentioned earlier, use 1.75 unhealthy pinches of salt. Set that sucker to low and find something to do for the next 10 hours or so, because that's how long we're going to let it cook. I recommend sleeping, or taking advantage of the fact that other people are sleeping to go into their homes and move everything two inches to the left. Whatever it is that you people do. Your patience will be rewarded with a delicious, hearty, slightly spicy stew with beef that's fall-apart tender. You can totally top it off with the roasted pumpkin seeds we made last week to double down on your pumpkin deliciousness if you choose. Regardless, this stew is the perfect thing to warm you up to brave the chilly rainy weather and go look at all of the Christmas ads outside. 

Lettuce Wraps

Not pictured: the 20+ boxes behind me

Food has a magical quality. A good home-cooked meal can help make you feel at home even when you're on some godforsaken rock somewhere waiting for your connecting flight to some garbage place like New Jersey. That's why it's a little disappointing that my kitchen at my new apartment isn't quite functional. You see, there was a mix up where the gas company actually wanted to read the meters, but the meters were hidden from passing meter bandits behind a locked door to which I don't have a key. Who could have guessed, right? At least those pesky meter marauders won't catch me with my metaphorical pants down. Or eating any food cooked in my kitchen. But times of hardship show us what we're really made of. Innovation, determination, and several other importation "ations" can let you have the comfort of a delicious home-cooked meal despite not having the ability to technically cook. Oh, and for those of you interested, it turns out I'm mostly made of oxygen and reruns of 90s sitcoms.

Ingredients:

1 Rotisserie Chicken (Yes, grocery store chicken is totally a thing. In dire circumstances it can be super useful, and if you take the time to doctor it up a bit it can be tasty and versatile as well. But if you're not careful you'll end up regularly eating grocery store chicken. And that's exactly what my hardy forebears left their turnip infested homeland to avoid)

1/3 cup Coconut Milk

3 TBSP Natural Peanut Butter (In general, you're looking for peanut butter with little-to-no added sugars. If you can't find it or don't want it, just leave out the honey. Oh, retroactive spoiler alert. There'll be honey)

1 tsp grated Ginger

1 tsp grated Garlic

1 tsp Rice Wine Vinegar

1/2 tsp Soy Sauce

1/2 tsp Honey

Lettuce (You're looking for any lettuce with leaves that are big and pliable enough to use as a food receptacle. I like a little bitterness and crunch, so I used radicchio and some bibb lettuce. You use what you like)

Green Onions

Since we're not, technically speaking, cooking anything here, the first step is to get a bowl. We're mixing a bunch of crap together, and you can't mix nonsense without some kind of bowl. Winston Churchill said that. So take your British bowl of freedom and unceremoniously dump in your peanut butter, coconut milk, ginger, garlic, vinegar, soy sauce, and honey. Pretty much everything except for the chicken, green onions, and lettuce. Stir all of that together until it forms a kind of beige homogenous goop. Set your bowl of beige aside for the moment and get cracking on your chicken. You're going to want to take the meat and get to shredding. If it's hot, you can totally do this with two forks, using an awkward jerking motion like you're a T-Rex trying to bust out some sweet dance moves. If your forks are lost somewhere in a sea of boxes that is your life right now, you can totally do this by hand. Maybe make sure to buy some soap and paper towels first, because if you don't know where your forks are, who knows what else is lost in the cardboard abyss?

Adding insult to the injury of my not-quite kitchen is how
much better this kitchen is than my last one. 

Pretty much all that's left is the assembly. Take your vaguely cup-shaped leaf of lettuce and fill it up with your shredded chicken. You want to stuff as much in there as you can without risking it all falling out when you try to pick it up and eat it. Then liberally splorp on your peanut goop. Use a little bit more than you think you should. The top may look like it's got a bunch of sauce, but if you're anything like me then your pile of chicken runs deep. Also it's where most of the flavor is coming from, and why settle for less flavor? Finally, thinly slice some green onions and sprinkle them on top. All that's left is to settle on to your couch in front of your TV and eat while you pretend like you're totally going to unpack something during the commercial break. See you next week! You know, assuming I can find my computer.

Roasted Elotes

We use corn for so many crazy things in America that it's
even starting to weird out the other vegetables

Corn is everywhere, especially in the midwest. Some of you sticklers for language might be thinking "there's no such thing as gradient levels of 'everywhere,'"and you'd think that would be the case. But you're wrong. Go to any grocery store. Look at ingredients. Corn is everywhere. Then go to the midwest and drive for 30 miles in literally any direction. I rest my case. Fortunately, corn is also absurdly delicious, and is kind of synonymous with Summer, which it technically is in case the absurd heat and gaggles of unruly children roaming the streets wasn't enough of a clue for you. The point is, we're being invaded by delicious corn, and it's our duty as patriotic Americans to eat the heck out of it to thin out its numbers so that we don't get completely overrun and end up slaves to our corn overlords, working in a butter mine in Montana.

Ingredients:

4 Ears Corn
4 oz. Cotija Cheese (If you can't find Cotija, you can replace it with Feta, but it won't be quite the same)
1/4 cup Mayo
1/4 cup Sour Cream
2 Limes
2 cloves Garlic
1 tsp Chile Powder
1/2 tsp Smoked Paprika
1/4 tsp Cayenne Pepper
1/4 tsp Kosher Salt

I've managed to make some pretty easy food here once or twice. Once I just mashed up a couple of fruits and froze their goop. This isn't the easiest recipe I've ever made, but it may be the easiest recipe I've ever made that actually requires any cooking. So first thing's first, heat your oven to 400 degrees and toss your corn in, husks and all. You don't even need any bourgeoise luxuries like a pan. Just throw them straight on your oven racks and leave them there for 45 minutes. Which is awesome because, firstly, there's no dishes to clean up, and secondly you now have 45 minutes to prep everything else. 40 minutes later, after you suddenly realize that you completely forgot about your corn because you got sucked in to whatever reality TV show you're addicted to this week, run to your kitchen with a nervous energy that really has no place near sharp knives. Take a sharp knife and chop the bejeezus out of your garlic. You really want to get it fine. Otherwise you're going to end up biting into a giant chunk of uncooked garlic later, which will end up being bad for you and everyone who has to talk to you for the rest of the day.

I wouldn't recommend letting these sit around for too long if
you're not eating 'em right away. This has yet to be a problem.

Combine your mayo, garlic, sour cream, cheese, and the juice from your limes together (oh yeah, you've got to juice your limes. So go retroactively have done that). In a separate container combine your chile powder, paprika cayenne, and salt. You're pretty much good to go. Like I said, easy. Once your corn is cooked all the way through take it out of the oven and pull the husks off of it. If you have delicate, sensitive, effeminate hands that can't handle second degree burns, use a towel for this. Either way, leave the husk at the bottom of the corn so that you can use it as a handle, and take your delicious snack on the go. This allows you the fun of eating your hot food outside in the Summer heat. You know, where the sun is blazing down on you in its endless struggle to murder you. Anyhow, immediately slather your cream mixture on to the hot corn, and then sprinkle it with your spice mixture. I'm a fan of citrus, so I squirt on a little extra lime juice at the end, but that part's optional. And that's it! You've got a snack that's delicious, filling, and a service to your country. You're technically a veteran now.

Pickles 2: The Ginger-ing

All you vegetables are just pickles to me

Pickles are awesome. This is an undeniable fact. Some of you might remember that I have strong feelings about pickles, because I've actually totally made them before on this very blog. To be honest, that might be my favorite post that I've made, and not just because of the multiple links to the exact same video clip from the Little Rascals. I'd say it's like 50/50 delicious easy pickles and Little Rascals. The point is, last week when I was supposed to be sitting home alone writing a blog post in a pile of sadness caused by not traveling, I totally was in south Florida instead. It was incredible despite, technically, being in Florida (The gator wrestling capital of the world). And while I was there I ate at a restaurant that served me the best damn pickles I've ever had in my life. I seriously considered asking for the recipe. And by "seriously considered," I mean "I totally did, but they shot me down." You know, like when a guy at work seriously considered asking out Candace from accounting. The point is, they wouldn't give me the recipe. And I only know one solution to that sort of rejection.

Ingredients:

1 English Cucumber (While the nationality of your produce isn't really my business, in general English cucumbers don't have big seeds, and are longer and narrower. All of which are good things since we're going to be cutting everything in to bite-sized slices. So just this once, god save the queen)
2 standard-issue Carrots
1 Red Onion
3 cloves Garlic
1 standard-issue hunk of Ginger
1.5 cups Water
1 cup Apple Cider Vinegar
3 TBSP Salt
1.5 TBSP Honey
2 tsp Black Peppercorns
1/2 tsp Saffron threads
1 Star Anise pod
1 Lime

Now, I just want to be clear. I started experimenting with weird pickle flavors because of the pickles at this restaurant, but I didn't re-create them. Much like Jack Black said, this is just a tribute. A tribute which happened to turn out tasty and super easy to make, which worked out as a nice bonus. That said, the first thing you're going to have to do is make your brine. So throw your water, vinegar, peppercorns, honey, salt, and star anise in a pot and set them to boil. Yes, boiling vinegar will make your whole kitchen smell like vinegar. Yes, it'll be worth it for the food. Plus, you neighbors will stop complaining about you never inviting them over for meals. While this is going down it's time to deal with your vegetables. Peel and roughly chop your ginger and garlic and throw them in to some container with a lid. Peel your carrot and slice it into thin rings. Similarly, slice your cucumber into thin rings, and then peel your onion and slice it in to...not rings. Cut your onion in half and then just slice it relatively thinly. The exactitude of each knife cut isn't important. These are pickles. They'll turn out ok even if they look a little weird, just like children. Just make them bite-sized and as uniform as you can, and then throw them in your container along with your saffron. Slice your lime, add it in to the party, and you're like 99% done with this recipe.

Delicious on tacos. Or burgers. Or cardboard.

Once your brine boils, turn the heat down and let it simmer for about 10 minutes or so. Then dump it all over your jar of vegetables. Let the whole mess get down to room temperature before throwing a lid on it and dumping it in to your fridge. Now here's the deal. Since you cut everything thinly, these pickles will take shape pretty quickly. After about 4 hours they should already taste pretty pickley and delicious. That said, the longer they sit, the more intense flavors will get packed in to them. They should last for a couple of weeks in the fridge. Or, more accurately, if they were in your fridge for a couple of weeks they'd still be good to eat. There's no way they're actually going to last in your fridge for more than a couple of days though. They're just so tasty. Also, pickles are super refreshing on a hot day. Which is all that Florida knows how to do, I think. The locals there start wearing heavy coats and boots when it drops below 80. I'm pretty sure it would take me all day to explain to them the concept of what snow even is. Anyhow, happy pickling!

Cheddar Spaghetti Squash Casserole

"Sometimes life hands you an unreasonable amount of cheese. It is up to each of us as occasionally upright members of the human race to determine how we'll react. Will we let sloth and time turn that cheese to mold while it sits unused in the refrigerator, or will we take bold action? Create something great from nothing, and leave a legacy for the future?"

Rare portrait of Washington kicking the British apart.

When George Washington said these words, they were met with applause by an enthusiastic young nation, tired of war and eager for a prosperous tomorrow. They were also met with some confusion, since the refrigerator wouldn't be invented for another 50 years or so. Which only makes it more inspiring. And it's just as relevant today as it was then. It speaks to our will, determination, and perseverance. When you've got an apartment full of discount cheese from the back of a van and misshapen produce sent to you by the internet, what are you to do? This. This is what you're to do.


Ingredients:

2 reasonably sized Spaghetti Squash 
3 Cups Broccoli Florets (If you want you can totally use fresh broccoli, cutting the florets off and then steaming them before using them in this recipe. But for an application like this, I'm totally cool with using frozen broccoli from a bag that you let defrost. Follow your heart)
3 Cups Cheddar Cheese Sauce (The best way to get cheese sauce is to steal it from work, like I did. If you get caught by security, I've mentioned the method behind making it here. And also here)
1.5 TBSP Pickled Jalapeños 
2 tsp Garlic Powder
1/4 tsp Black Pepper
1/4 tsp Chili Powder
Salt
Olive Oil

The first thing you're going to have to do is deal with your spaghetti squash. If you haven't used this ingredient before, don't worry. It's pretty cool, and also pretty easy to work with, which is cool in and of itself. So it's cool squared (Math puns!) but we still have to prep it a little bit. Cut each of your squash in half with a cold and pitiless stare. Then, with grim efficiency, scoop all of their seeds and guts out in to the trash. Rub the dismembered squash corpses down with your garlic powder, black pepper, chili powder, olive oil, and a large human's pinch of salt. Throw that nonsense in a 375 degree oven for about an hour. While you're cooking your squash, it's time to deal with your cheese sauce. Heat it up over medium heat. Roughly chop your jalapeños, and throw them in to the party so that their flavor can really get in there. Taste it and add salt if needed. That seemed like an hour's worth of work, right? If you have time left over, feel free to use it solving international crises, fighting crime, or sitting motionlessly on your couch while staring at a rectangle on your wall. Whatever floats your boat.

Florescent lighting notwithstanding, that's some
Grade-A deliciousness right there.  

Once your squash is cooked and out of the oven, take two forks and get ready to go to gourd town. As the name might have indicated to some of you, spaghetti squash has this weird thing where it breaks up into strands with roughly the same shape as spaghetti noodles. So shred the crap out of it until you have a big pile of vegetable based pasta substitute. Discard the peel (It knows what it did) and throw your squash strands into a bowl along with your broccoli and your sauce. Splorp that all together until it looks relatively uniform and it makes unpleasant squishing noises. Spread your cheesy gourd goop evenly into a baking dish and throw it a 400 degree oven for about 1/2 an hour. Your telltale signs that it's done are the cheese bubbling and turning a darker color, the edges getting crispy and browned, and it smelling up your entire apartment with deliciousness at 2 in the morning. Then pull it out of the oven, try to resist immediately digging in to the burning hot cheesy goodness, fail, treat your burns in order of severity, and repeat!