Irradiated by Stingray
Oh, this thing is still on? Hey, sorry about that*. So 2012 pretty well sucked crusty green donkey whangers, we’re all on the same page there, right? Well, a whopping two weeks in, ’13 is already a mixed bag but trending positively. LabRat has unfortunately spent the majority of the year thus far sick as a dog, hence a good chunk of the lack of content, but it has now been a whole couple hours since she attempted to hack a chunk of lung across the room, so we’ll take what we can get.
I know there have been some** requests for dog pictures as easy filler content. Good news! I have dog pictures! And you can just wait patiently for them because today’s story is about a pie.
See, during the Rama-mas-zwa-inox-ukah-years down time, longtime friend and part time dogsitter Indy was spending a good chunk of her grad student winter break here at Nerd Ranch. This meant that I had Help available in the kitchen. I know it’s odd, but LabRat and I mostly just get in each other’s way, despite many years of marriage, but Indy and I dance like Fred and Ginger*** in the kitchen for reasons unknown. So with little to do and help available, a recipe was floated before me leading to the phrase “Why not? It’s not like there’s anything else going on.”
If you ever hear me say that about a recipe again, just shoot a tranq dart in my neck right then and there and be done with it, mkay?
Now the actual recipe comes from the ambitious but excellent A Girl And Her Pig. The fact that the cover of the book pisses so many crybabies off is reason enough to buy it, but despite the aftermath of this particular misadventure there’s a bunch of stuff in there that still looks awesome and will be tried later. The culprit today, however, was “Beef and Bayley Hazen Pie,” a concoction of rib meat, blue cheese, and some other strong flavors.
Cutting to the chase, this is a multi-day cook project, involving a from-scratch crust and a couple hours of stove time and still a long bake. This is not a fire-from-the-hip recipe. Regardless, Indy and I set about it and made steady progress. Right up until the final step of putting the shell together. See, in the book the final product is supposed to look like this:
I’m sorry, no. I am not making a giant asshole pie. I don’t care that the woman uses the whole pig or if she gives to charity or what, I simply will not serve a giant sphincter. But you all know what a classy motherfucker I am. And it’s pie dough, not marble, so I’m pretty sure I can figure something out. And I did.
Slightly nsfw below the jump.
Classy. Motherfucker. The picture I wish I’d gotten was Indy with her face hovering scant inches above the pie inhaling the delicious aroma…. then realizing the position she was in. That moment of dawning awareness, my kingdom for a kodak.
Unfortunately, despite all the work and effort that went into the pussy-pie, it was more or less for naught. The flavors were strong, but overall tasty, but sadly too strong. LabRat ate her portion with no ill effects, but Indy and I were laid severely low. The sphincter pie would’ve been much more representative. The leftovers were submitted to a priest for exorcism, burned, and the earth where the fire was salted. LabRat, in her usual spirit of love for humanity, of course was sympathetic and loving while we suffered.****
The first part of the year: apparent food poisoning and some sort of death plague. Tomorrow: dog pictures.
*That’s a lie.
***Not like that. Pervert.
****She cackled like a witch and wouldn’t let us throw it out immediately in case she wanted leftovers.