The Dissemination of Thought

Just because it's in print doesn't mean it's intelligent…

Posts Tagged ‘Freshly Pressed

It’s crazy cookbook time, and I need your calamitous kitchen confessions

with 31 comments

I need help. Not the sort offered by a team of psychiatrists and medical professionals, but that which only you, my freakin’ awesome readers, can provide.

After the piece that shared my ridiculously disastrous cooking escapades was Freshly Pressed on 3 February, things went absolutely berserk. 7,331 people read it on the day. Hundreds commented, and the last time I checked, 706 bloggers had liked it. For some reason, people seem to love embarrassing tales of kitchen calamities, especially ones written by self-depreciating single guys.

Will people really buy a cookbook written by someone whose cookies turn out like this?

For those who haven’t read “5 things I’ve learnt about cooking: the calamitous kitchen confessions of a single guy”, this is what happened when I tried to flip the contents of a frying pan for the first time:

Damn you, Jamie Oliver. After observing everyone’s favourite naked chef continually flip the contents of his frying pan with a deft flick of the wrist (no, that’s not a euphemism), I eventually asked myself why I was the only sap left using spoons and spatulas. The concept of the flip didn’t seem that difficult, and with every celebrity cook and wannabe MasterChef contestant sending their stir-fries skyward in a graceful arc with apparent ease, I made the decision to come in from the culinary cold: I was my time to flip.

I chose to try it for the first time while sautéing mushrooms. I was focused. I was visualising it. I was trying to determine how I should celebrate what I assumed would be a successful attempt. Putting the wooden spoon to one side, I eyeballed the frying pan and quickly snapped it upwards in a forceful yet clinical motion.

I wish I could tell you that the mushrooms landed with a poetic elegance, but I can’t: there’s nothing poetic about a hail of hot butter and fungi raining down around you.

Look at him, the Converse-wearing smug bastard. Source: paradoxplace.com

At any rate, a lot of the comments people left suggested, among other things, that I should look at writing my own cookbook. I received dozens of emails, texts and phone calls supporting this suggestion, so I decided to seriously contemplate it over innumerable glasses of Scotch, a bottle of red wine and more than a few bags of Skittles Sours. My eventual decision? To attempt the impossible, and write a quasi cookbook that someone is prepared to publish. If people are prepared to pay good money to read about my kitchen debacles and take cooking advice from someone with the culinary ability of an oven mitt, who am I to stop them from wasting their hard-earned?

The book is going to be a compilation of kitchen stories and culinary lessons learned the hard way, but it will also include easy-to-follow recipes with idiot-proof instructions provided by yours truly. I’m writing it under the working title Stirring the Pot with TDoT, but the final name will be something much more eye-catching and scintillating. I hope.

No, I didn't make this, but I can provide step-by-step instructions on how to buy some just like it for yourself.

This is the point at which your help is required. While I have a multitude of personal tragic tales, I know there are countless other amusing kitchen stories out there, and I want to include as many as I can in the book. Any that appear that aren’t mine will be fully attributed to the kitchen failure considerate individual who shared it with me. While it’s only fair, I also believe it’s a fantastic opportunity to show the world that I’m not the only one burdened by culinary shame.

If you are happy to share your cooking disasters for inclusion in the book, send me an email with the following information:

  • What you were trying to do in the kitchen when your catastrophe occurred. What went wrong? What was the outcome? Did you walk away with both eyebrows and all of your digits, or did you end up with a painful memento of your culinary ineptitude?
  • How you’d like to be acknowledged in the book. I’m happy to use your real name, your blogging name or any other witty pseudonym you feel comfortable with. Except Snatch Baggins. I’ve already got dibs on that one, should I ever decide to change my name.
  • How many copies of the book you’d like if it gets published and sales tank, resulting in boxes and boxes of unsold copies lying around. I’m thinking that 38 is a reasonable minimum commitment.

How can you say no to this random guy? Source: speechadvice.com

So, there you have it. My shameless plea imploration invitation for you to share your calamitous kitchen stories for inclusion in my yet-to-be-named cookbook companion. Everyone has tales of kitchen woe, so ask your friends. Ask your family. Ask your parole officer.

The quest for Pressed and ABCs with “B” for breasts

with 23 comments

I’ll admit it. Things got a little bit crazy. Things got forgotten/thrown in a giant pile of shit to do. As it turns out, one of my favourite bloggers was in the pile of stuff I had to do. Metaphorically speaking, of course, not literally.

Freshly Pressed: it's not just about garnishes.

Amidst the unadulterated bedlam that was being Freshly Pressed, Chrystalyn at The Future of Hope bestowed upon me the Awesome Blog Content Award, in recognition of, well, my awesomeness? My ability to stuff up an idiot-proof baking project? My sunny disposition and willingness to tolerate those stupider than I? Okay, it’s definitely not the last one: my threshold for dumbass is shoelace high. At any rate, because of the ludicrous number of comments, emails, texts and telephone calls that the pressing generated, I haven’t had any time to fulfil my duties as an ABC Award recipient.

Author’s note: in the above sentence, “I haven’t had any time” can be freely substituted with “I forgot”.

Basically, in order to ensure that I don’t come across as a complete asshole in accepting the award, I need to:

1. Thank the person that gave me the award, and then provide the very clichéd link to their blog.
2. Work my way through the alfalfabet alphabeet alphabet, choosing a word that starts with each letter to describe me. That’s right: Lyndon in 26 words. How scary is that?
3. Throw the blogging love around by nominating my own awardees.

Virtual flowers: the shittiest thank you gift ever. Source: flowersdepotonline.com

Chrystalyn is awesome and she knows it. I was going to give her a choice between flowers and chocolates to say thank you, but the latter mysteriously disappeared while I was writing this piece. On a totally unrelated note, Lindt Excellent 85% Cocoa chocolate is amazing. Where was I? Oh, yeah, Chrystalyn. As I publish this, The Future of Hope has 153 subscribers. I want that number to be at least 200 by the end of the weekend, because her writing is as funny as fuck. She’s incredibly creative, and has a cheeky, warped sense of humour. Check her work out for yourself, I guarantee that you won’t be disappointed.

Let’s look at the Lyndon alphabet of descriptive words.

Asshole or Arrogant (six of one, half a dozen of the other.)
Breasts*
Charming (when I want/need something.)
Dystopian
Eating (Chrystalyn’s chocolate.)
Freakish
Glockenspiel (I know it’s an instrument, but I’ve always thought the name sounded dirty and amusing, even as a 9-year-old.)
Habitual
Intense
Jocund
Kitsch
Lazy (because I couldn’t be bothered coming up with an awesome word beginning with “L”.)
Maniacal
Narcissistic
Observer
Patronising
Quesadilla (I love Mexican food.)
Resourceful
Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious (take that, Mary Poppins.)
Taunted
Ubiquitous
Vodka-fuelled
Whingy
Xanax (if you read this blog for long enough, you’re going to need it.)
Yawning (it’s almost 1:45am.)
Zestless

* Another author’s note: breasts needed to be included, because not only are they wonderful from a physiological perspective, they just make the world a better place in which to live.

Now, the blogs that I think deserve their very own ABC Awards:

Mid Life Ranting – His satirical approach is fantastic; he’s insightful and angry, and manages to incorporate intellectual rants into amusing pieces.

The Skinny Jeans and Starbucks Chronicles – I only discovered Karen’s blog a few days ago, but she’s a gifted writer who engages her audience with ease. This snippet is from her latest piece:

But long gone are those archaic days of 17 chicken and buffalo dowries and your mother-in-law picking out your wedding night trousseau. These days arranged marriages work differently. There’s Facebook stalking prior to the meet and city bylaws against hoarding chickens and buffaloes in your backyard. And if I thought I had very little true knowledge of arranged marriage in my parents’ generation, then I knew absolutely nothing about arranged marriages in this day and age.

Suburban Enlightenment – She blogs about asshats (I’m not going to try to explain this) and openly discusses her husband’s nuts with the blogging universe.

I Can’t High Five – Tennille describes herself as “…blunt, direct and bossy, with no tone, a lack of social prompts and an inability to high-five.” Further to all of these things, she’s also a writer whose work makes me laugh.

As well as thanking Chrystalyn again for the award, I wanted to express my sincere gratitude to all of you, the clowns who keep coming back for more and more of my confusing, narcissistic rants. Without you guys and girls, I’d just be talking to myself. And commenting on my own posts in the third person, all while subscribing to The Dissemination of Thought under a dodgy alias like Snatch Baggins.

Written by disseminatedthought

February 5, 2012 at 01:35