Two words that should not go together: fish pudding. It comes from a Cuban cookbook given to me by a friend. That’s the recipe, that’s what it’s called, and that’s what the ingredients would appear destined to create. Something about the sheer improbability of this mixture demands that I attempt it, I…must…know what will happen.
Canned tuna in oil, check. Eggs, check. Bread sans crust, check. Tomato sauce, pepper, milk, parsely, check. Blender at the ready. May god have mercy on our souls. Here we go.
If I’m not back in an hour, someone call poison control or the Pentagon.
Right now I’m baking a weird concoction myself. I had a box of extra moist yellow cake mix, vanilla pudding, and a big can of peaches in lite syrup. I baked half of the peaches and some syrup into the cake, and am now waiting for it to cool… I’m thinkin’ of slicing it in half, spread on the vanilla pudding and layering it with the rest of the peaches then chilling for a Peaches and Puddin’ Cake…