Allie: One of the best things about being a gay lady is that when I came out I realized I didn't have to take shit from dumb men anymore! That was very empowering and I recommend it. Some other perks include: I have seen Carol a bunch of times; I now know that there's an episode of The L Word in which a fun pick-up basketball game happens and also a deranged woman adopts a sick old dog so she can put it to sleep to get revenge on the vet whose wife gave her a bad book review; I can wear denim on denim to achieve a cool dockworker vibe. However, my lesbian separatist utopia of a life crumbled as soon as I moved to Chicago. Now, multiple times a week I have to think about Guy Fieri, the human equivalent of a limp curly fry, and I have to deal with endless piles of shit from Chris, the human equivalent of a gas station hot dog. Sometimes it doesn't get better, you guys.
Allie: First, we made spicy steamed mussels. I had never made mussels before, but this recipe was simple and the broth was flavorful and interesting - it had curry powder and a nice level of heat and we used coconut milk instead of cream and it was actually pretty enjoyable. Mussels are weird, but that's not Guy Fieri's fault. A MacArthur grant recipient once told me "that's not how evolution works", though, so who knows, maybe it is? Did Guy Fieri make mussels? Have we run out of ways to describe Guy Fieri's seafood? If you're still reading this: send help. Allie's rating: 4 out of 5 times I made a fool out of myself in front of a smart person
Chris: I went on my honeymoon to Belgium, and I have wonderful memories of eating mussels and drinking trappist beers on the canals of Bruges with my beautiful wife. Those memories have all been replaced by a nightmare-ish amalgam of frosted tips and Def Leppard guitar riffs. One of the weird things about mussels is they are still alive when you go to cook them. Sometimes, they open and close their shell as if to say, "Really? This is how you're gonna kill me? In Guy Fieri broth?" Also, why are they called mussels? They don't have any muscles. Look, I know that was not a good joke, but this blog has worn away any limited comic sensibilities I once had and now I'm just a 90's stand up comedian wearing a bolo tie. Chris's rating: 3.5 out of 5 molluscs with washboard abs.
Allie: We also made brick in the wall bird with salsa verde. This recipe had all the subtlety, dignity and class of the man I recently saw walking around a bowling alley with a raging sweatpants boner. Instead of just marinating and grilling the chicken, like PEASANTS I GUESS, we had to put the chicken in a pan and then put another pan on top of the chicken and then put 4 bricks wrapped in aluminum foil inside the top pan, like REAL MEN (??). Unfortunately, I left all my bricks at home, so we had to make do with just using a real heavy top pan. My memories of cooking this are hazy, because the kitchen was literally so filled with smoke that it was like doing craft services for Apocalypse Now. The smoke was so thick that Chris's bedroom door kept slamming shut, which I like to imagine was the ghost in his apartment finally getting FED UP with our shit and deciding to go haunt a happier, less hostile apartment. Also, the salsa verde was red. That did not surprise me because this blog has destroyed my capacity for childlike wonder. This blog is the opposite of Steven Spielberg! Allie's rating: 3 out of 5 sad ghosts
Chris: Haha, this was a special kind of torture. First, I took a whole chicken and cut the spine out, like Sub-Zero's original fatality move in Mortal Kombat. The whole time Allie was just standing there chanting "FINISH HER." Then, I had to flatten the chicken into one pan, and then weigh it down with another pan. Guy didn't tell us how long to cook it, so how long do you think it takes to cook entire 5 pound chicken on the stove? If you guessed infinity, you were close, but it was double infinity. Allie and I sat in silence while I watched her beard grow three feet long like a lesbian Rip Van Winkle. After the chicken finally finished cooking in what was basically the FUTURE at that point, it tasted fine. Chris's rating: 3 out of 5 (one for each foot of Allie's luscious beard).
Allie: Finally, we made grilled chicken tortilla soup with tequila crema without the tequila crema. It had a nice heat to it, but it took a long time to make and the broth was pretty thin and underwhelming. I really wish I could remember more about this soup, but by this point I was drinking white wine straight from the bottle in a smoke-filled kitchen, like a sassy remake of Backdraft starring me as a clumsy career lady firefighter who's just trying to have it all! What else can I say? There's a scene in the new Planet Earth series where these fucking JACKED horses are fighting each other for territory and lady horses and it's crazy. They look like really strong horses and they're kicking each other and stuff, it's pretty intense. Allie's rating: 2 out of 5 scripts for Backdraft 2: Backdraft in the Habit
Chris: I like how Allie said this had a "nice heat to it" instead of "it melted my mouth all over my face." This was super spicy. My eyes were already tearing from all the smoke from the brick chicken and this made them water even more, so they cancelled each other out because double jeopardy? I don't know, I'm not a lawyer. It basically tasted like hot spicy chicken water. But I guess when you think about it, all soup is just hot water with stuff in it. And cereal is just cold milk with stuff in it! Whoa. The good news is I am a genius and knew we would hate this soup, so we made very little of it and so I didn't feel bad pouring it down the drain. Chris's rating: 2 out of 5 revelations about what soup is.
Total dishes made: 99/157 (so close to 100 I can almost taste it! It tastes like bacon grease)
The other worst episodes of the L Word: the one where a trans man gets pregnant and is thrown a Willy Wonka-themed baby shower against his will; the ones where a creepy straight man secretly films his lesbian roommates all around their house and there are NO REPERCUSSIONS; the theme song
Worst sentence in one of these recipes: "Oh, oh, oh...yeah, yeah, yeah! These rock!"
Chris: I think the ghost may have been the ghost of all my hopes and dreams flying out the window
Allie: I would like to thank the ghost for helping turn this writing project from having a fun Julie and Julia vibe to having a more sinister Crimson Peak vibe