Chris: This meal totally snuck up on me. It’s like when you’re slowly enjoying a lollipop and then you look down and realize that it’s covered in ants. Or when you’re eating an entire six foot party sub and you look down and you realize you ruined your office’s Christmas Party. Or when you take a bite of sushi and realize that's not sushi and here come the police, and I guess you're banned from Sea World again. I didn’t have high hopes but I wasn’t prepared for the insane meat root canal that I had to endure for this meal.
Chris: The first thing we made was Irish Nachos. Finding a way to appropriate and offend two different cultures, it tasted like the combined hangovers of March 18 and May 6. Basically, we cooked frozen French fries and then dumped cheese, canned corned beef, and sauerkraut on them. There’s not much to say about these. I thought they would be bad. They were bad. The image in the cookbook was a waffle fry wearing a top hat. There was no surprise. It’s like when I saw I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry in the theater. Can’t really be shocked that it wasn’t good. Chris's rating: 1.5 out of 5 bad Adam Sandler movies
Allie: This was pretty miserable. I love waffle fries, but apparently the grocery store we shop at is only slightly better stocked than one of the underground bunkers in The Road and they didn't have waffle fries, so we had to get regular fries instead. I thought that maybe adding cheese and corned beef to fries would be fine, and that was dumb. Of course it wasn't fine! It was a lot like the time I brought wine into the shower with me and then I got shampoo in my rosé: disappointing, but unsurprising. These "nachos" were mostly bad because Guy made us cover them in sauerkraut and horseradish. Every time we cook with horseradish now I feel like one of the velociraptors from Jurassic Park, probing Guy Fieri's recipes for weaknesses to figure out how little horseradish I can add and learning from my mistakes. Unfortunately, this recipe counted as a mistake, because I literally added one-sixth the amount of horseradish that Guy called for and it still felt like an explosion at a horseradish factory was happening in my mouth. If you like fries that are covered in sauerkraut, you will love this; otherwise, you'll be as disappointed as I was when I learned that Chris saw I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry in the theater. Allie's rating: 2 out of 5 velociraptors drinking wine in the shower (clever girls)
Chris: We also made some little radish things. Basically we put cream cheese and prosciutto and seasoning into some sort of leaf thing and then tied it with string. Then I think we grilled it? I don’t really remember. It was dumb. It kind of tasted like a gusher. But instead of being full of fruit juice it was full of cheese. And instead of my head turning into a fruit, I just got sad and laid down on the floor. Chris's Rating: 2 out of 5 cream cheese gushers
Allie: OK so by radish, Chris means radicchio, and by cream cheese, Chris means mozzarella. I basically took a bunch of radicchio leaves and I filled them with lots of stuff and I tied them with twine like a bunch of little hobo bindles and then I threw them onto a hot grill train and they went off in search of a better life (to my stomach). As with most Guy Fieri dishes, these lil bundles contained every ingredient in the world but only tasted like one: pesto. They tasted like hot pesto. They were largely inoffensive, but grilling them made them hot and greasy. When we were eating these, Chris's wife looked over at us and said "you both get so sad when you cook" and that about sums it up. Allie's rating: 3 out of 5 greasy lil bundles
Chris: FInally, we made Summer pork. In the photos and a quick scan of the recipe it appeared that it was a stuffed pork chop. But in actuality, it was essentially meat sushi. We didn’t realize this until it was too late because the recipe was maddeningly underwritten. Basically, we put down tin foil and then lay down a layer of bacon. After that we put down a layer of pork chops. The recipe called for four chops, but gave zero indication on how to lay them down. I ended up laying them down in a square, but I think that was a mistake. Finally, we made a filling of bread crumbs, cream cheese, roasted red peppers, and jalapenos. After that, we rolled the whole thing up and then grilled it in the tin foil on all four sides, then removed the tin foil and grilled it again. When it was done, we sliced it up like sushi. It was…not good. The bacon was not crispy, but the pork chops were overdone and dry. When we cut into it, the whole thing just fell apart into a pork and cream cheese mush. Look, I’m running out of ways to say that this food was bad and disappointing, so I’ll just say: Kowabunga! Chris's Rating: 2 out of 5 meat sushis
Allie: I think the picture above sums it up best: this meal both looked and tasted like an actual crime scene. The outside was undercooked and the inside was overcooked, which means that we somehow found a new pork-based way to actively flout the laws of thermodynamics. Anyway, putting cream cheese in pork tasted BAD THIS WHOLE PORK TASTED SO BAD I HATED IT SO SO MUCH. I literally ate two bites and then I stood up and walked right onto the train and went home. Allie's rating: 0 out of 5 pork entropys
Total recipes made: 43/153
Worst Sentence in one of these recipes: "We all need a nacho in our life." Actually, that's kind of deep, Guy.
Next 90s Snack I want Guy to update for Flavortown: Dunkaroos! It will probably be Slim Jims with a dipping sauce of Axe body spray.
Allie: I attempted to do a nice job of plating the pork and the sauce, and it came out looking like someone dropped a ham sandwich in a puddle of elk urine. If that's not a metaphor for this meal, I don't know what is.
Chris: Irish I didn't have this blog