Allie: Well I have good news and I have bad news. The good news is that everything we made for this meal actually tasted pretty good! The bad news is I think that means my palate has been absolutely shot to hell by prolonged exposure to the endless deep-fried fart bullet that is Guy Fieri cuisine. The other bad news is that we have spent almost ten months cooking approximately 100 Guy Fieri dishes, which definitely makes me feel like I am the Pizza Rat of people. Like, I could be spending my adulthood tutoring gay baby lobsters or watching Dunkirk or whatever I'm supposed to be doing but instead I'm spending most of my time drinking industrial-grade tequila and flushing grilled ketchup down my friend's toilet. I guess what I'm trying to say is: live your truth, lobster babies!!!
Allie: First, we made the Snake Bite. I knew it was going to be a good night because I went straight from therapy to making a shrimp-based sandwich named after a hot rod racer. I also knew it was going to be a good night because I learned that hot rod racing is different from soap box derby racing. That might be a thing everyone else knew but look, pretty much all kinds of racing are far as hell out of my wheelhouse. Call me when Guy Fieri starts naming seafood dishes after Fiona Apple songs or something. Anyway, we cracked a bunch of frozen shrimp out of the freezer and I sang "papa was a frozen shrimp" to the tune of "papa was a rolling stone" and Chris hated it so much he grew a beard and left to go start a new life in the Pacific Northwest. His new wife is a salmon and she's a real bitch. The sandwich was actually pretty good. It was basically a shrimp sloppy joe, and it didn't make my stomach feel like Chernobyl happened inside it. I truly cannot ask for any more than that. Allie's rating: 3.5 out of 5 i dun kirk make any dunkirk puns
Chris: This sounded awful, was named after a hot rod racer, was made with the cheapest ingredients we could find, looked like cat vomit... and actually tasted pretty good. As I was dumping the frozen shrimp into the spices and stuff (you know... cooking!), Allie yelled "DON'T PUT ALL THAT SHRIMP IN! I'm not that hungry. I only want like three shrimp." Which is insane because these were the cheapest, smallest shrimp in the world (you may remember their previous appearance as the second half of the BOGO shrimp from the tom kai gai). But like I said, this ended up being pretty good, and Allie ate like 20 shrimps in her sandwich. It did suck the life force out of us, and we were so tired that we didn't even finish cooking the second two dishes. That's the first time that's ever happened to us, I think. Allie and I hatched a scheme where I would come over to her house and cook really quick before her party a few days later? I know, it was a dumb plan, but I was pretty shrimp-drunk at that point, so I wasn't thinking clearly. Chris's rating: 4 out of 5 tiny hot rods with shrimp riding in them
Allie: Three days later, Chris made some Steak Diane and Chicken Dijon and brought them to my apartment, because I was hosting a party that night and I didn't want to subject my nice cheese plates and cheerful disposition to the acid rain diarrhea hurricane that is this blog. I also thought my sister would enjoy this steak because her name is Diane! I mean, I enjoy eating Elvis Costello records about whiny men, so I assumed she would enjoy eating this steak. Anyway, it was fine! I thought it was a little bland and I wanted some more flavor, but I also want the pay gap to go away and for Sherlock episodes to be literally half as long as they are now and to be able to pull off a Heartthrob-era Tegan and Sara haircut so I guess what I'm saying this THIS BLAND STEAK WAS FINE Allie's rating: 3.5 out of 5 i dun kirk think i can pull of an alternative lifestyle haircut
Chris: Yea, so shocker: our plan immediately broke down and I had to cook these on my own and then package them up to feed Allie like the world's saddest Meals on Wheels. This recipe called for filet mignon, brandy, and demi glace (which Guy helpfully suggested ordering online(!)). So of course, I didn't get any of those ingredients. I got filet, but I wasn't gonna spend like $30 on food that was likely gonna end up in the garbage. And the recipe only called for a tablespoon of brandy, so hell if I was gonna get that. I did try really hard to find the demi glace. I looked very hard in the soup and stock section, as well as the gravy section, but I could not find it. I asked a clerk if they had it, and I might as well have asked for MOON ROCKS by the way he looked at me, so they did not have it. Also, I ended up having to cook this meal alone BECAUSE I AM A MARTYR, so I was fully prepared to hate this but fall on my sword because I didn't really try hard to make it and I didn't have half the ingredients. But, I actually really liked this. I thought it was really flavorful, but it lacked some the richness I expected (probably because of the lack of brandy and demi glace--I used whiskey and beef stock with butter, respectively). I liked it enough that after Allie and I choked down like five bites before the party, I took it home and heated it up the next day! I know, I'm shocked, too. Chris's rating: 4 out of 5 pants (I substituted pants for points).
Allie: Finally, in classic Allie fashion, I quickly ate some of the chicken Dijon over the sink. It was fine. I appreciated that the mustard taste wasn't too overwhelming, because sometimes eating mustard makes my sinuses feel twitchy and uncomfortable and like, that's how I feel all the time, why must the inside of my face feel that way too? Guy talks a big game about how he went to France when he was a teen and that gave him a refined palate but like a) this is a boneless skinless chicken breast covered in Swiss cheese, cool it, Jacques Pepin, and b) just because you've been to France doesn't make you fancy, I went to France and I ended up in a Michael Jackson-themed Christmas haunted house rollercoaster and then I killed the plant in my AirBnB like a sassy millennial Jean Valjean. Also, this chicken was pretty rubbery. I really enjoyed not cooking it, though. Allie's rating: 3 out of 5 i dun kirk like mustard
Chris: Like all great Guy Fieri recipes, this started with me pouring salt and sugar and water in a bag with a boneless, skinless chicken breast and letting it sit in the fridge for an hour. Usually, when you brine chicken, you at least boil the water first to dissolve the sugar and salt. Nope. My chicken breast just sat there in his little sweet n' salty bath like it was at the world's saddest spa. Again, we didn't cook this chicken for three days, so it got really BRINED. Or so I thought. Actually, it just came out very rubbery, kind of like the consistency of Laffy Taffy. Also, the bag punctured and salty, sugary water with uncooked chicken juice leaked all over my fridge and got into my crisper drawer and destroyed all my vegetables! Cheers to good decisions! Also again, I made this myself because I AM THE BACKBONE OF THIS BLOG, and I really phoned it in. But the sauce was actually pretty tasty. If the chicken didn't taste like old Halloween candy, I think this would have been a really solid dish. Chris's rating: 3 out of 5 hilarious Laffy Taffy jokes (Why is this blog like a bad pencil? It has no point!)
Total dishes made: 96/157
Worst sentence in one of these recipes: "Almost every time I cook with mustard it reminds me of being an exchange student in France. Especially when I make a dish like this one, with wine and cheese." Who proof-read this cookbook, a maxi-pad with a drawn-on smiley face?
What Diane said about the steak Diane: "I don't think it's cooked all the way through" (it was; she was wrong)
Allie: Why is this blog like a bad pencil? I think it's giving me lead poisoning
Chris: Why is this blog like a bad pencil? I wish I could erase it