All of my Cooking Equates to Cat Vomit. Roughly.

HEY GUYS. Blogger is being an ASSHOLE and it won't let me show you the picture of how I mutilate my seven year old sister's coloring books by turning Barbie into Medusa.

Anyways, I learned some valuable lessons last weekend. Number one: Reading is hard because TV. I'm sorry, professor, I understand that I was supposed to start reading chapter 10 of the Intro to Film book, but the TV was staring at me and how could I say no to just one little tiny short six hour marathon of America's Next Top Model? I couldn't do it; I gave in. (Heads up, I didn't try that hard to resist the temptation.) The second lesson that I've learned is that when thinking to myself "Maybe I should cook something," the appropriate response is always "DON'T." Nothing good could possibly come out of this. Here's where my traumatizing experience began. Bestfriend and I decided "Hey, let's make some homemade mac & cheese to go with this mysterious chicken we found in the freezer." Good start, already, I know.
     So we find this mac & cheese recipe with the pasta, and it seems good and legit, so we take out the salt, and pepper and dried mustard (by the way, have you SEEN dried mustard? It looks like cat vomit, guys! STAY AWAY!) and all this other shit, and put it in the pan. Then we pour in the milk. Oh WAIT, we were supposed to pour in the milk GRADUALLY? Shoot. So I was all "I'm sure it'll be fine, just mix it really well," and a minute later, Bestfriend is all "Hey, all this other stuff is stuck to the bottom of the pan, and it smells like it's burning." I tried to scrape it off the bottom of the pan while telling Bestfriend, "It's fine!" Bestfriend grated some cheese, which may I add, was the wrong kind (we used two kinds, and both of them were WRONG), and it got stuck in the damn cheese grater and EVERYTHING. DAMN IT. I had to mix the two kinds of cheese together, which absolutely enraged Bestfriend when I tried to mix it in a cup with a knife because she's really fucking weird or something. "A BOWL, Sara! A BOWL!" she exclaimed, angrily happily. We put the cheese in the burnt-milk-and-other-disgusting-things mixture, and watched it become a masterpiece! Just kidding, it smelled like burnt glue and sour milk.
      So we stupidly decided to continue trying to make this mac & cheese, and poured the burning-glue-and-milk-and-cat-vomit mixture into the other pan with the already cooked pasta in it. Yeah, Bestfriend and I destroyed one of the pans. GUESS WHICH ONE. Nevermind, I'll tell you, since I know you're all dying to know. It was the one with the burnt-milk-dried-mustard-cat-vomit shit in it. Dried mustard burns really fast and it really sticks to the bottom of a pan, I found out. So we poured our sad attempt at mac & cheese into a glass pan, put some more cheese over it, and put it in the oven for 30 minutes or something. Halfway through, I looked in the oven and asked Bestfriend if it was supposed to be bubbling, to which she replied "I don't KNOW, Sara, IS IT?" She wasn't very happy with me at this point, after the mixing-the-cheese-together-in-a-cup-with-a-knife ordeal. Ugh, WHATEVER.
     Our mac & cheese was a failure. If you were wondering what it tasted like, you should probably stop wondering, because it would ruin your appetite imagination is fun. Oh, and that mysterious chicken I mentioned earlier? It was fucking turkey. TURKEY. Who breads turkey and makes it look like chicken nuggets? Breaded turkey is like chicken nuggets for people who don't understand anything that is happening. So if I'm ever all "I think I'm gonna cook some lasagna," Please, SOMEONE, be like, "Hey, Sara, you can't cook for shit, and also, you don't even like lasagna, so what are you thinking?" Thank you. I can cross "Successfully cooking a meal," off the list of 'Things that will someday happen to me." It's right under winning American Idol. I crossed that off, too.

I'm Feeling Like Being a Jerk Today...

God, I hate when I'm watching America's Next Top Model, and I change the channel during commercials, and flip back just in time to hear Tyra calling me a loser. Also, look at the cool cake made out of magic and fairy dust (my mom told me cakes can't be made of these things. I definitely remember putting them in the bowl, but WHATEVER) Bestfriend and I made:

I'm sorry, what? Why yes, that IS the coolest cake that's ever been made in the history of ever. I'm waiting for the job offers to roll in from all those shows about cake. I mean, I understand that the cakes on there have actual moving parts and helicopters (made of cake) that fly, and little men (made out of cake) that want my hand in marriage wave at you, and little business executives in suits (made out of fucking CAKE) that want to hire me carry briefcases, but this cake is rainbow. I'm sorry, I don't know if you heard me correctly. It's fucking RAINBOW. The frosting is ALSO rainbow, so there's that. I'm gonna tell you how to make a rainbow cake as awesome (and rainbow) and special (and also rainbow) as Bestfriend and I's.

 STEP ONE: Get your cake mix. Make sure it's vanilla or white. It can NOT be chocolate. That just won't work and you'll feel stupid, so don't do that shit.

STEP TWO: Mix that shit up with eggs (not hard boiled), water, vegetable oil, and whatever else the damn box says; just read the box, okay? I'm very busy. Hey, guess how many cheetos fit in my mouth?

STEP THREE: Separate the cake batter into six different bowls. Don't ask questions, okay? Add food dye to each one. You want red, yellow, orange, green, blue, and purple; the colors of the rainbow, since it's going to be a rainbow cake and so youI'm gonna stop explaining now.

STEP FOUR: Pour the purple batter into the bottom of the pan, and then pour the blue batter into the center of that. Do the same with the green, yellow, orange and red, but keep it in rainbow order, or else you suck! I love you, don't leave. It should look like this:

STEP FIVE: Bake your cake for whatever time the box tells you.

STEP SIX: Take your cake out of the oven, and let it cool. Then, carefully flip it out onto a large plate, platter, cooling rack, whatever you want. Also, don't do a shitty job flipping it onto the cooling rack and break it in half like we did a dumbass.

STEP SEVEN: Frost it if you want to, or if you don't want to, then you're boring. If you do, then buy or make some white vanilla frosting or icing or whatever you like to call it, and separate it into six different bowls, and use food dye like you did for the cake batter. Then figure out the rest of the damn thing.

So that's how you make a rainbow cake. Don't say I never give you anything. Also, this was pretty much the worst recipe/baking tutorial/blog post ever, so I deeply apologize.

Also, I'm still working on my Lady GaGa costume, so keep liking Pork on a Fork on Facebook. You can do that from the sidebar right here on my beautiful, spiffy, average-looking, horrible, embarrassing blog. Do it so I don't look like a loser.
Also, look at this picture of me eating a fake bagel and drinking fake coffee inside of a furniture store!

 

I'm so, so sorry.