This Horrible Oatmeal
Listen, I don’t want to be a jerk or anything. I really appreciate you making lunch, and I can tell you put a lot of effort into it. But, ugh, this oatmeal tastes terrible.
I mean, I’m not an oatmeal expert, but there is something seriously wrong with this oatmeal. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Is oatmeal supposed to be spicy?
I guess I’m just used to my mom’s oatmeal, which was kinda sweet and buttery. Sometimes it had a little apple or cinnamon. I’ve never had oatmeal with chunks of green pepper in it, though. I’m not the biggest fan.
Did the recipe call for green pepper, or did you improvise? Maybe you shouldn’t trust your instincts on this kind of thing.
Sorry. I know I sound ungrateful. It’s not like I slaved over the stove all morning. But, yikes, this oatmeal is gross. Did you try any before you served it? I think you might have spilled some cumin in here. Also, are these kidney beans?
Normally, you are such a great cook. But, for whatever reason this oatmeal turned out kinda disgusting. Next time—
What? It’s not oatmeal? It chili? Oooh, well then it’s delicious! Hey, thanks for the tasty chili, Buddy.
How To Cook An Artichoke
So, you’ve never cooked an artichoke before, and you want to give it a try? Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, yes, artichokes can be delicious. But, cooking them is a huge pain is the ass. It’s a ton of work for very little edible results. Still want to give it a go? You’re that stubborn? Well, alright, let’s do this.
Step 1. You’ll need a pair of cooking sheers. Look in the busted kitchen drawer. They’ll be lodged under the egg beater, so it’ll take awhile. Why do you need scissors? Because, artichokes have thorns on every leaf. That’s right; you are about to eat something that doesn’t want to be eaten. So much so, it grew thorns.
Step 2. After trimming off the tips of each leaf (because of the thorns that can draw blood if you’re not careful), you’ll want to… What? You’re not done cutting the thorns off one at a time? Okay, we’ll wait.
…
Ready now? No?
…
How about now? Sure, I understand; it’s tedious. Alright, after all that, slice a half inch off the tip of the artichoke. Good luck.
Step 3. Trim and remove all but an inch off of the stem. The stem is technically edible, but it’s tough and sometimes bitter. Again, probably because artichokes don’t want to be eaten. Have you noticed the word “choke” in the name? That’s not a coincidence.
Step 4. Rinse off the dirt. You won’t get all off it, because there will be some trapped between the leaves. But, take your time and try. It’s only been what? A half hour of prep time so far?
Step 5. Fill a large pot with two inches of water, and place a vegetable steamer inside. Your son or boyfriend may have used the steamer as a pretend “satellite dish,” so check the roof of his fort. Bring the water to a boil.
Step 6. Steam the artichokes for 45 minutes. Oh, you read that right. 45 minutes. You probably shouldn’t have started cooking the rest of dinner already, because these artichokes are gonna hold things up.
Keep checking back on the pot to make sure the water hasn’t boiled away. I’ve ruined like four pots trying to cook stupid artichokes. Now, I buy cheap pots at TJ Maxx, expecting that they’ll get destroyed at some point.
Step 7. You’ll know the artichokes are done when the outer leaves are easy to peel off. Careful checking, because it’ll be hot and may still have sharp thorns that you missed. I wouldn't blame you if you had given up halfway through trimming the leaves.
Step 8. After they’ve cooled a bit, peel off the leaves and dip them in melted butter. But, here’s the thing: You don’t eat the whole leaf. You just scrape the tiniest bit of edible artichoke flesh off the base of each leaf with your teeth. I know, right? All that work for that? Really, it’s just a conduit for melted butter. You could have just melted butter and taken a sip.
You know what else tastes good with melted butter? Everything. Every single thing tastes good with melted butter. Asparagus—that tastes good with melted butter. Broccoli—also good with melted butter. Brussel sprouts—they smell like pee, but even they taste good with melted butter. You don’t even have to melt butter. Regular butter tastes good, too.
Step 9. Alright, there’s some other stuff after you’re done eating the leaves. Like, you can scrape out the fibrous “choke,” which will make your kitchen look like a squirrel exploded. And, somewhere underneath that is an artichoke heart.
But, honestly, it’s late, and I’m super tired. And, I didn’t even want to write this recipe out, anyway. Because, why should I help you with your masochistic impulses? You could have just bought a can of artichoke hearts at the grocery store. Done and done.
I’m going to bed. Good luck with your damn artichokes.
My Grandmother’s Secret Recipe
I’d like to share with you guys my grandmother’s secret recipe for cheese biscuits. I can remember as a little kid, standing next to her in the cottage, watching her make these biscuits. She was always so proud of them and never let anyone have the recipe. But, now you will.
Here it is:
1) First, preheat your oven to 450° F. Lightly grease a cookie sheet with a vegetable oil.
2) In a large glass mixing bowl, mix together 2 cups of unbleached flour, either a tablespoon or a teaspoon of salt, and some other kind of powder. She wouldn’t tell anybody what kind of powder, but it was white. Maybe baking powder? Every time I’d try to look, she’d bat my hand with a wooden spoon.
3) Cut in butter with a pastry cutter until crumbly. At least, I think this is what she was doing. She’d keep her back between me and the bowl, blocking my view even if I tried to sneak around. But, afterward, it seemed like she had mixed in butter.
4) Stir in a cup of shredded cheese. (Again, no idea what kind. My dad asked once, and my grandma started screaming about respect for her secrets.)
5) Add 2/3 a cup of milk. This one I’m sure of, because once I hid above the fridge overnight and saw her making biscuits the next morning. When she found out that I was spying, she cried for a while and then told me that if I ever told anyone her secret recipe, the devil was going to come at night and take me in my sleep.
6) Kneed the dough on a floured cutting board until somebody comes into the room. Yell at them to get out, or there will be no biscuits! Do they want to ruin dinner for everyone?!! Roll the dough out about an inch thick and cut into 2 inch circles.
7) Bake at 450° for 10-14 minutes until a light brown. During this time, stand guard at the oven to make sure that no one tries to steal one of your biscuits. Hide any evidence of the recipe.
8) Remove from the oven and brush the tops with melted butter.
9) Enjoy!