I don’t have a recipe for you this week, because I don’t want to subject you to the horror that was yesterday evening’s dinner.
I had some good ideas for dinner last night, but I didn’t have the ingredients on hand for any of them, so I went rifling through the PETA website and came up with a monstrosity called “Spicy Buffalo Cauliflower Wings.”
I’d seen that recipe several times on Pinterest, and I kept passing it up on the grounds that it sounded like something you’d take to an office potluck. If you wanted to make sure your office never, ever had a potluck again.
I tried it last night.
I am not posting a recipe.
Because it tastes like something you’d take to an office potluck. If you wanted to make sure your office never, ever had a potluck again.
Y’all. Y’ALL. I just fulfilled a dream 17 years in the making.
Once upon a time in 1997, I drove past a parking lot in northern Illinois. On the parking lot was a man selling velvet paintings from the back of a truck. At the time, I owned a fiberoptic lamp and a bean-bag chair, both of which were displayed prominently in my living room, so when I spotted a velvet painting of dogs playing poker, I was certain I’d found the Holy Grail of Bad Taste.* If I’d had $60 on me at the time, I’d have bought it. I’m still not sure why I didn’t proceed directly to the nearest ATM to secure the funds for this masterpiece, because it stands as one of the worst things I’ve ever seen.
I was thinking about the Grail tonight. And then as I got on eBay to search for the Grail again, I thought of that painting.
I didn’t find the Grail. But I found some guy named Jorge who lives in northern Mexico and creates hand-painted replicas of that painting I passed up.
I knew I should have bought it when it was only $60. A thing like that can only appreciate in value, which is obviously why a velvet art dealer is charging $100 for Jorge’s work.
Painting ships Monday. I’m still trying to decide whether it’s worth another $25 for an ugly pine frame similar to the one on my velvet Elvis.