Martha, you stinking bitch.

Posted on December 28, 2006

Morning, Poodles! We hope your Christmas was a gay old time. Us? We had a fabulous time even if the Bitch Who Stole Christmas almost ruined it for us.

See this?
This is what we thought we were serving for dessert. Now, we’ve made Baked Alaska before, but for some reason, in a fit of yuletide madness, we thought we’d give Martha’s recipe a try. Foolish gays. Martha of course had to make this about a thousand times more complicated than it needed to be. We spent a couple days assembling the thing in our freezer and since meringue doesn’t freeze well, we left the final step to be done just before the guests arrived.

Yes, we realize that was stupid. Like we said, yuletide madness.

So, 15 minutes before their arrival, Tom finds himself furiously trying to make Martha’s neurosurgery-level of meringue come together when what happens? Why, our garbage disposal backs up and the dishwasher starts spewing dirty water all over our kitchen floor! This lead to Tom uttering what may be the gayest thing he ever said:

Lorenzo (on his hands and knees dirtying every clean towel in the house): Tom, I need some help here!

Tom: You can’t just leave a meringue once you start it!

If we had recited the entire exchange in SugarPlum Fairy costumes it couldn’t have been any gayer.

Anyway, the frikking thing just wouldn’t come together and looked like melted marshmallows instead of fluffy meringue. Plus, Tom’s trying to whip it in shape while simultaneously trying to avoid the growing puddle of water threatening his shoes when his hand slipped and the beaters spewed half-assed meringue all over the kitchen wall. Meringue, we may add, that could have been used for mortar in the Great Pyramid. The stuff still isn’t completely gone.

So, once again, Martha ruined someone’s Christmas with her overcomplicated bullshit and we should have just stuck with the classic egg whites, confectioners sugar and cream of tartar version of meringue we’ve always made instead of bitchface’s delicate little heat-the-egg-whites
to-an-exact-temperature version.

Luckily, our guests all brought desserts with them but next year we’re sticking to whatever Paula Deen tells us to do. How hard is it to melt a stick of butter and add it to everything on the menu before deepfrying it?

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