http://entertainment.nerve.com/2010/...sandra-lee-din
ner-party

By James Brady Ryan

Welcome to Pop Torture, a biweekly column in which I embrace my
pop-culture masochism and search out the most painful ways to experience
the movies, TV, and music that fill our lives with such ecstasy and
agony. (Needless to say, I’ll mostly be focusing on the latter.) Each
week I’ll take on a new challenge, and each week I’ll share my
adventures with you, provided I survive them.

The Challenge: To prepare, eat, and survive a meal made exclusively of
recipes from Semi-Homemade With Sandra Lee.

Sandra Lee is the host of not one but two shows on the Food Network,
famous for making meals that, by design, cut as many corners as
possible. Anything that can be purchased pre-made is tops in her book,
which has led to a less-than-stellar reputation among other cooks,
foodies, and anyone with eyes/taste buds. (She’s also known for coming
off as an unrepentant lush — half of her airtime seems to be spent
throwing back cocktails.)

lush lagoon

But Lee does have qualifications, as her unintentionally hilarious
Wikipedia page points out: “Lee’s official Food Network bio states that,
‘Lee then attended the world’s leading culinary art institute, Le Cordon
Bleu.’ Lee enrolled in a recreational two-week course at the school’s
Ottawa outpost, which she acknowledges that she did not complete.” I’ve
spent a decent amount of time laughing at Sandra, but I’ll admit I’d
never tried any of her recipes. If I actually put her food where my
mouth is, would I have to stop laughing?

Cocktail Time (Gin thing & Lush Lagoon): Because misery loves company
(and because all of her recipes serve four), I invited a few friends
over for a three-course dinner, preceded by a cocktail hour. I had a
selection of two: one was some kind of gin-based fruit concoction
without an official name. The other was an electric-green mixture called
the “Lush Lagoon.” (Possibly named after Sandra’s favorite rehab
center.) While the gin-and-juice was generally confusing (so many
juices), the Lush Lagoon sounded reasonable — crushed kiwi, vodka, melon
liqueur — until the final touch: a dash of juice from a jar of jalapeno
peppers.

The group reaction was best summed up by my guest Megan: “The gin drink
actually doesn’t seem so bad once you’ve tried the other one.” But if
you’ve ever sipped down a refreshingly cool summer cocktail and thought
to yourself, “This is missing a certain burning in the back of my
mouth,” then the Lush Lagoon is for you.

spiceycashewdip Pop Tortu The Sandra Lee Dinner Party

Appetizer (Spicy Cashew Dip): In the interest of saving time (a Sandra
Lee commandment if ever there was one), I went with a dip — something
simple my friends could enjoy with bread or crudités. I chose the
ominously named Spicy Cashew Dip. In what would turn into the running
theme of the evening, this recipe seemed to go one ingredient too far.
You might sign on for cashews, peanut butter, cream cheese; it’s when
Lee gets to the chili paste and cumin powder that you begin to wonder.

The dip tasted, unsurprisingly, like warm peanut butter and cream
cheese. But we couldn’t get much of it down, because… well, there’s no
delicate way to say this: the dip looked like crap, literally. “I can’t
get over how much this looks like a turd,” my roommate said, as she
gingerly scooped up some dip with a piece of celery. “It’s… well, it’s
surprisingly… warm. And there are… chunks. Uh, like a turd.”

Main Course (Smoked Turkey, Brie, and Apricot Quesadilla): After about
an hour of enthusiastically not eating the dip while chugging the gin
cocktail (only one Lush Lagoon ever sputtered into being), we were tipsy
enough to imagine that the entree could be good. After all, the word
“quesadilla” was in the name. And who could say no to two flour
tortillas sandwiching some sliced deli turkey, brie, apricot jam, and
monterey-jack cheese? While you might be thinking to yourself,
“Everyone. Everyone could say no to that,” I have to tell you that we
were so hungry by this point we’d gladly have thrown in some fish sticks
and pancake batter if Sandra had asked. The truth is, these quesadillas
were not bad. Yes, we were hungry and a little drunk. And yes, we had
the same issues with this dish as we had with the others — namely that
Sandra Lee could really use an editor for her food.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hquvl...layer_embedded

Dessert (Kwanzaa Cake): And finally we came to the dish for which Sandra
Lee is infamous. Not so much a dessert as a sugary confusion. The
Kwanzaa Cake. This was actually the first dish I prepared — oh, how
young and naive I was then, four hours previous — and let me tell you:
this cake did not want to be made. The pre-made angel-food cake would
not come out of its container. The icing refused to stick to the oddly
plastic surface of the cake once I did pry it out. (Megan questioned the
wisdom of buying plain frosting and then adding cocoa powder to it when
chocolate frosting is readily available, a point which Sandra might want
to consider.) And then, as I poured apple pie filling from a can into
the center of the dish (really), the can actually attacked me, slicing
open my middle finger, presumably enraged by its forced participation in
a crime against contemporary African-American culture, good taste, and
nature. Sandra Lee suggested I garnish with acorns. My mother suggested
that acorns are not edible.

cake Pop Tortu The Sandra Lee Dinner Party

As I sliced into the cake, my guests all uttered a collective prayer.
Then we dug in, trying to capture each element in that first bite. This
was the cake that Anthony Bourdain famously said would set your eyes on
fire, but if only Tony knew what it would do to your mouth! It’s like
being orally sodomized by the Sugar Plum Fairy.

Result: Perhaps twenty minutes after we had finished, my friend Joe
texted me from the safety of his own home asking if any of us weren’t
feeling so hot. As it happened, the three of us still at my apartment
were lying on the couch clutching our stomachs in pain. I concluded that
something in the meal was responsible for our gastro-intestinal
problems. Was it the mix of so many different flavors? Was it the
jalapeno juice in the Lush Lagoon? Was it the sugar from the cake? I
contemplated these things as I ran to my bathroom to vomit. (Seriously.)

In conclusion: **** you, Kwanzaa Cake. If you ever find yourself
seriously considering a trip into Sandra Lee’s food fantasia, perhaps
due to a lack of time or a lack of energy, let me give you the greatest
corner-cutting tip of all: pizza delivery exists for a reason.


--
WARNING!!!
Use of these recipes may be hazardous to your health, food budget,
standing in your community and liver function. Use at your own risk!! We
assume no liability from any illness or injury sustained while eating
the "food" or being exposed to crapass tablescapes. And no, we're not
sure where she grew up either. The Cordon Bleu disavows any knowlege of
Miss Lee.

On Apr 8, 6:01*pm, (Ubiquitous) wrote:
> http://entertainment.nerve.com/2010/...sandra-lee-din
> ner-party
>
> By James Brady Ryan
>
> Welcome to Pop Torture, a biweekly column in which I embrace my
> pop-culture masochism and search out the most painful ways to experience
> the movies, TV, and music that fill our lives with such ecstasy and
> agony. (Needless to say, I’ll mostly be focusing on the latter.) Each
> week I’ll take on a new challenge, and each week I’ll share my
> adventures with you, provided I survive them.
>
> The Challenge: To prepare, eat, and survive a meal made exclusively of
> recipes from Semi-Homemade With Sandra Lee.
>
> Sandra Lee is the host of not one but two shows on the Food Network,
> famous for making meals that, by design, cut as many corners as
> possible. Anything that can be purchased pre-made is tops in her book,
> which has led to a less-than-stellar reputation among other cooks,
> foodies, and anyone with eyes/taste buds. (She’s also known for coming
> off as an unrepentant lush — half of her airtime seems to be spent
> throwing back cocktails.)
>
> lush lagoon
>
> But Lee does have qualifications, as her unintentionally hilarious
> Wikipedia page points out: “Lee’s official Food Network bio states that,
> ‘Lee then attended the world’s leading culinary art institute, Le Cordon
> Bleu.’ Lee enrolled in a recreational two-week course at the school’s
> Ottawa outpost, which she acknowledges that she did not complete.” I’ve
> spent a decent amount of time laughing at Sandra, but I’ll admit I’d
> never tried any of her recipes. If I actually put her food where my
> mouth is, would I have to stop laughing?
>
> Cocktail Time (Gin thing & Lush Lagoon): Because misery loves company
> (and because all of her recipes serve four), I invited a few friends
> over for a three-course dinner, preceded by a cocktail hour. I had a
> selection of two: one was some kind of gin-based fruit concoction
> without an official name. The other was an electric-green mixture called
> the “Lush Lagoon.” (Possibly named after Sandra’s favorite rehab
> center.) While the gin-and-juice was generally confusing (so many
> juices), the Lush Lagoon sounded reasonable — crushed kiwi, vodka, melon
> liqueur — until the final touch: a dash of juice from a jar of jalapeno
> peppers.
>
> The group reaction was best summed up by my guest Megan: “The gin drink
> actually doesn’t seem so bad once you’ve tried the other one.” But if
> you’ve ever sipped down a refreshingly cool summer cocktail and thought
> to yourself, “This is missing a certain burning in the back of my
> mouth,” then the Lush Lagoon is for you.
>
> spiceycashewdip Pop Tortu The Sandra Lee Dinner Party
>
> Appetizer (Spicy Cashew Dip): In the interest of saving time (a Sandra
> Lee commandment if ever there was one), I went with a dip — something
> simple my friends could enjoy with bread or crudités. I chose the
> ominously named Spicy Cashew Dip. In what would turn into the running
> theme of the evening, this recipe seemed to go one ingredient too far.
> You might sign on for cashews, peanut butter, cream cheese; it’s when
> Lee gets to the chili paste and cumin powder that you begin to wonder.
>
> The dip tasted, unsurprisingly, like warm peanut butter and cream
> cheese. But we couldn’t get much of it down, because… well, there’s no
> delicate way to say this: the dip looked like crap, literally. “I can’t
> get over how much this looks like a turd,” my roommate said, as she
> gingerly scooped up some dip with a piece of celery. “It’s… well, it’s
> surprisingly… warm. And there are… chunks. Uh, like a turd.”
>
> Main Course (Smoked Turkey, Brie, and Apricot Quesadilla): After about
> an hour of enthusiastically not eating the dip while chugging the gin
> cocktail (only one Lush Lagoon ever sputtered into being), we were tipsy
> enough to imagine that the entree could be good. After all, the word
> “quesadilla” was in the name. And who could say no to two flour
> tortillas sandwiching some sliced deli turkey, brie, apricot jam, and
> monterey-jack cheese? While you might be thinking to yourself,
> “Everyone. Everyone could say no to that,” I have to tell you that we
> were so hungry by this point we’d gladly have thrown in some fish sticks
> and pancake batter if Sandra had asked. The truth is, these quesadillas
> were not bad. Yes, we were hungry and a little drunk. And yes, we had
> the same issues with this dish as we had with the others — namely that
> Sandra Lee could really use an editor for her food.
>
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hquvl...layer_embedded
>
> Dessert (Kwanzaa Cake): And finally we came to the dish for which Sandra
> Lee is infamous. Not so much a dessert as a sugary confusion. The
> Kwanzaa Cake. This was actually the first dish I prepared — oh, how
> young and naive I was then, four hours previous — and let me tell you:
> this cake did not want to be made. The pre-made angel-food cake would
> not come out of its container. The icing refused to stick to the oddly
> plastic surface of the cake once I did pry it out. (Megan questioned the
> wisdom of buying plain frosting and then adding cocoa powder to it when
> chocolate frosting is readily available, a point which Sandra might want
> to consider.) And then, as I poured apple pie filling from a can into
> the center of the dish (really), the can actually attacked me, slicing
> open my middle finger, presumably enraged by its forced participation in
> a crime against contemporary African-American culture, good taste, and
> nature. Sandra Lee suggested I garnish with acorns. My mother suggested
> that acorns are not edible.
>
> cake Pop Tortu The Sandra Lee Dinner Party
>
> As I sliced into the cake, my guests all uttered a collective prayer.
> Then we dug in, trying to capture each element in that first bite. This
> was the cake that Anthony Bourdain famously said would set your eyes on
> fire, but if only Tony knew what it would do to your mouth! It’s like
> being orally sodomized by the Sugar Plum Fairy.
>
> Result: Perhaps twenty minutes after we had finished, my friend Joe
> texted me from the safety of his own home asking if any of us weren’t
> feeling so hot. As it happened, the three of us still at my apartment
> were lying on the couch clutching our stomachs in pain. I concluded that
> something in the meal was responsible for our gastro-intestinal
> problems. Was it the mix of so many different flavors? Was it the
> jalapeno juice in the Lush Lagoon? Was it the sugar from the cake? I
> contemplated these things as I ran to my bathroom to vomit. (Seriously.)
>
> In conclusion: **** you, Kwanzaa Cake. If you ever find yourself
> seriously considering a trip into Sandra Lee’s food fantasia, perhaps
> due to a lack of time or a lack of energy, let me give you the greatest
> corner-cutting tip of all: pizza delivery exists for a reason.
>
> --
> WARNING!!!
> Use of these recipes may be hazardous to your health, food budget,
> standing in your community and liver function. Use at your own risk!! We
> assume no liability from any illness or injury sustained while eating
> the "food" or being exposed to crapass tablescapes. And no, we're not
> sure where she grew up either. The Cordon Bleu disavows any knowlege of
> Miss Lee.

LMAO!!!

ImStillMags wrote:
>>[two pages of quoted material]
> LMAO!!!

Hey, Mags, could you please try to trim the long posts when you reply?
Thanks!

Serene
--
"I tend to come down on the side of autonomy. Once people are grown up,
I believe they have the right to go to hell in the handbasket of their
choosing." -- Pat Kight, on alt.polyamory