Surreal Recipes

[Sue_Duhnym]

I ran across this site from The Surreal Goumet and i’m thinking about trying his Dishwasher Salmon. He’s also got some other interesting recipes there, like the one for grilled chicken with a can of beer up it’s…uh, cavity.

I know there’s also been some people into cooking on their car engine.

Have any of you done anything like this? Do you have any other bizarre recipes/ways of cooking?

[Mr.Moto]

I always thought mayonnaise cake was a little surreal. Good, though.

[Larry_Griffin-Kentzel]

Recipe/cooking threads go in Cafe Society. I’ll move it for you.

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Cajun Man - SDMB Moderator

[voguevixen]

I recall seeing a recipe once for Kitty Litter Cake. (Should be easy enough to find with a Google, if one was interested.) It was pretty much a couple kinds of light colored cakes (say, yellow cake and an apple/spice type cake) baked, crumbled up, some of the crumbs tinted with green foodcolor (for the “chlorophyl” bits) and then tootsie rolls tossed in here and there. You of course served it in a litterbox with a litter scoop. Sounded disgusting but I’m guessing it would be a big hit at a little boy’s party. (Maybe pudding with gummy worms in it on the side, lol.)

[Hemlock]

From Edward Lear’s Book of Nonsense…

*To Make Crumbobblious Cutlets

Procure some strips of beef, and, having cut them into the smallest possible slices, proceed to cut them up still smaller, eight, or perhaps nine times.

When the whole is thus minced, brush it up hastily with a new clothes brush, and stir round rapidly and capriciously with a salt-spoon or a soup ladle.

Place the whole in a saucepan, and remove it to a sunny place, say the roof of the house, if free from sparrows or other birds, and leave it there for about a week.

At the end of that time add a little lavender, some oil of almonds, and a few herring-bones; and then cover the whole with gallons of clarified Crumbobblious sauce. When it will be ready to use, cut it into the shape of ordinary cutlets and serve up in a clean table-cloth or dinner napkin.

Gosky Patties

Take a Pig, three or four years of age, and tie him by the off-hind leg to a post. Place 5 pounds of currants, 3 of sugar, 2 pecks of peas, 18 roast chestnuts, a candle, and six bushels of turnips, within his reach; if he eats these, constantly provide him with more.

Then procure some cream, some slices of Cheshire cheese, four quires of foolscap paper, and a packet of black pins. Work the whole into a paste, and spread it out to dry on a sheet of clean brown waterproof linen.

When the paste is perfectly dry, but not before, proceed to beat the Pig violently, with the handle of a large broom. If he squeals, beat him again.

Visit the paste and beat the Pig alternately for some days, and ascertain if at the end of that period the whole is about to turn into Gosky Patties.

If it does not then, it never will; and in that case the Pig may be let loose, and the whole process may be considered as finished. *

[Balance]

I’m going to quote a nicely surreal passage from Barry Hughart’s Bridge of Birds. I hope that in so doing I’m not causing any copyright difficulties. A merchant with rather broad tastes in food has observed Master Li’s esteemed client, Number Ten Ox, sobbing over a coffin:

“Ten million maledictions upon the chef who persuaded me to serve porcupine at my great-grandson’s wedding feast!” shrieked Master Li.
The merchant was at his side in an instant.
“Porcupine? Did you say porcupine?”
“Porcupine,” Master Li sobbed.
“But, Venerable Sir, were you not aware that porcupine can be fatal unless properly prepared?”
Li Kao drew himself up affronted. “Do you take me for a fool?” he snapped. “I myself supervised the preparations, and every step was taken according to the instructions of Li Tsening.”
“Surely not!” the merchant gasped. “Why, the great Li Tsening wrote The Book of Porcupine Cookery!”
“Why do you think I followed his instructions, you idiot?” Master Li shouted.

The merchant’s eyes were glazed, and saliva flowed in streams. “Was it young, fresh porcupine?” he whispered.
“Barely one year old, and trapped the day before,” Master Li sniffled.
A mighty spasm shook the merchant’s vast belly. “From Yushan?” he whispered.
“Straight from the river,” sobbed Master Li

That was too much for the merchant. He tottered over to his guards, opened a large sack, extracted a pickled carp, devoured it noisily, and tottered back.
“The paste!” he gasped. “The paste was made one year before?”
“One year precisely,” said Master Li. “Only the purest yellow beans were used.”
“You are positive that all black and brown beans were removed? The slightest trace of such imperfection can be fatal!”
“All black and brown beans as well as those with purple markings were removed by hand,” Master Li said huffily. “The remainder was sifted fifteen times, and carefully scrutinized. I was perfectly aware of the danger!”
“Venerable Sir, I am not accusing you,” the merchant said contritely. “But I need scarcely point out that some error must have been made, since your great-grandson’s poor bride…ah…Is it possible that rice flour was used?”
“Don’t be an ass, young man!” Master Li said angrily. “Rice flour would have assassinated every single guest at the banquet! Only the purest Hua wheat flour was used, mixed with a little salt and exposed precisely six hours to the sun.”
“With a veil to keep out the dust! Dust can be fatal!”
“With a veil to keep out the dust. Then the flour and beans were mixed into the paste and placed into a jar, which was in turn covered by an earthenware basin and sealed with lime, and I need not mention that only pure river water was used, since the slightest trace of well water would have been fatal.”
" I cannot understand it," the merchan whispered. “Everything done properly, yet…Wait! What month was it?”
“Are you a raving lunatic? To prepare porcupine paste in any month but June is to commit suicide!” Master Li yelled.

The merchant had turned very pale. It was dawning on him that unless a flaw could be found, he himself could never safely enjoy the delicacy of all delicacies.
“Extraordinary,” he whispered. “Everything done according to the instructions of the great Li Tsening, yet the porcupine proved fatal after all. We must find the error! Venerable Sir, I beg you to describe the precise method by which your chef cooked the porcupine.”

It occurred to me that I had become too interested in porcupine cookery to mourn my departed bride properly. “Woe!” I shrieked. “Woe! Woe! Woe!”
Li Kao patted my shoulder. “To think that such tragedy should strike the only one of the great-grandsons who is neither mentally deficient nor morally degenerate,” he sniffled. “But you are right; the error must be found. My chef began by removing the eyes, stomach, internal organs, and embryos, if any were present. While he cut the meat into pieces, my poor great-grandson cleaned every clot of blood from each piece with his own noble hands. Then the chef boiled the meat in pure river water–”
“With the skin still attached?”
“With the skin still attached. He then removed the meat from the pot and placed it upon a cutting board–”
“A wooden cutting board?”
“Merciful Buddha, I am perfectly aware of the fact that a metal or ceramic cutting board can be fatal!” Master Li snarled. “My chef picked out every bristle and quill with fine pincers, cut the flesh into smaller pieces–and I assure you that they were square pieces–and sautéed them in pork fat. Then and only then did he mix in the bean paste and fry the mixture in hot oil. He took infinite care to keep dust from the pot, and when he judged the meat to be done, he dipped a paper roll in to the sauce and held it to the flame of a candle. Not until the paper caught fire easily did he remove the porcupine from the pot and serve it to the guests.”

Not a flaw. Not one single error. The merchant’s gluttonous world was crashing around him, and he buried his face in his hands–oddly enough, he reminded me of Bright Star when she thought the Sword Dance had been defiled. His passion was not so noble, but it was equally sincere. Li Kao took the opportunity to lift me to my feet, and I wept upon his shoulder while he patted my back.
“How many died?” the merchant whispered.
“Only my bride!” I howled. “Woe! Woe! Woe!”
“She alone among two hundred,” Master Li sobbed. “And I myself selected the porcupines! I myself made the bean paste! I myself supervised the preparation of the meat! My beloved great-grandson removed the clots of blood with his own hands! It was he who selected the choices piece to present to his bride! It was I who–”
“Wait!” cried the merchant. He grabbed my shoulders. “My dear tragic boy,” he whispered, “when you cleaned the blood from the meat, what kind of pin did you use?”

I was really quite touched. Li Kao had done all the work to bring the whale alongside, and now he was letting me use the harpoon.
“What kind of…why, I don’t remember!” I said.
“You must remember!” the merchant howled. “Was it or was it not a silver pin?”
“Yes, it was,” I said thoughtfully. “Now I remember clearly. It was a pin of the purest silver, although it fell to the ground as I came to the final piece of meat, so of course I had to use another one.”
“Silver?” he asked breathlessly.
I let the tension mount while I wrinkled my brow in thought. “Gold,” I finally said.

The abbot had always warned me against judging by appearances, and the merchant was a classic example. His hoggish appearance suggested self-indulgence at the expense of all else, yet he did not rejoice because his gluttonous world had been saved. Tears streamed down his cheeks and his belly shook with sobs.
“Oh my boy, my poor tragic boy, the slightest contact between porcupine and gold is fatal,” he wept.

This, BTW, is not the only occasion in the book wherein Ox has to pretend to mourn a bride or fiancée. If you like larcenous whimsy, this book’s for you.

Somewhere around here I also have a real mead recipe that calls for steeping an unplucked, uncleaned rooster in the brew for a few weeks…but I really have no desire to find it. :eek:

[Sengkelat]

Ah, Bridge of Birds, one of my favorite books.

The only unusual cooking I’ve done is to use an Elwood toaster. That’s the sort of toaster demonstrated by Elwood in the Blues Brothers movie; a bent coathanger to support the bread over the gas range.

I’ve also used a blowtorch to make creme brulee, but that’s not particularly unusual.

[Hodge]

A suffusion of yellow. [sub]D. Adams[/sub]

[crazy4chaucer]

Well, I’ve made grilled cheese sandwiches with my iron. Does that count as unusual?

[tracer]

*Originally posted by voguevixen *
I recall seeing a recipe once for Kitty Litter Cake.

David Horowitz did a blind taste test on his show once, with a cake baked using kitty litter. It was different from the above Kitty Litter Cake in that he merely substituted baking-soda kitty litter for “normal” baking soda (i.e. he didn’t use any kitty litter with fancy features like clumping, scent crystals, etc.).

The result was actually slightly better tasting than one made with conventional baking soda! Horowitz’s point was that the stuff in the kitty litter box was exactly the same stuff as in a regular box of Arm-and-Hammer, but with a much lower cost per pound.

[Ukulele_Ike]

Try The Decadent Cookbook.

Flipping through, I find Roast Hedgehog…Suckling Pig with Vegetables and Garden Pests…Boneless Frog Soup…Soles in Coffins…Rook Pie…The Tarporley Hunt Black Pudding (with Devilled Bones)…and Chancellor’s Buttocks, Virgin’s Breasts, and Lady’s Navels…these last three being desserts of various sorts.

Should keep you busy for a while.

[dorkusmalorkusmafia]

Well, I’ve made grilled cheese sandwiches with my iron. Does that count as unusual?

Only if you started doing this long before Benny and Joon came out. Otherwise you are just being a copycat.

[Beadalin]

This thread is timed perfectly-- just yesterday I came across this recipe for Ground Pork Peanut Butter Cookies. Appropriately enough, from the Heart of Iowa Cookbook. Iowa: where the hog confinements stretch from border to border.

Yecch.

[dorkusmalorkusmafia]

Recipe involving cat sent to me first thing in the morning.