… to a Crisp (Mushroom Slider)


Yuck. Not yummy. Yuck.

The red onions and roma tomato? Awesome. Fresh. You can’t mess that one up. You just slice it up and you’re done. The garlic spread? It was a brand name… I don’t really remember which company, though. Hidden Valley? Whatever (that’s how I felt about the spread too. The bread? Well, it wasn’t great quality. I think it was a generic brand. It was… eh. Seemed like a means to end really. Just there to hold together the pieces. Now for the big mistake…

Wanna know what really ruined my mushroom slider? It’s the only ingredient left: the mushroom. Er, I shouldn’t say it was the mushroom itself. It was how I actually prepared it. Seasoning was probably fine. However, I burnt the damn thing to hell. When I took the portobello out of the pan, it was the saddest looking thing on this side of Earth. It was shriveled and burnt to a crisp. It was like eating bacon without the salty flavorful goodness of bacon. I guess next time I’ll lower the heat or cooking time. It was sad, but I learned something at least!


French Toast Finale

Here you guys go… the finished product.


Looks pretty decent, don’t you think? Or maybe that’s denial on my part.

Anyway, before you dig into this video, just know that it’s really awkward. I need to learn to speak better in front of and behind the camera. Also this is practically my first time editing a video. And the footage is from an iPhone…. Okay enough excuses. Enjoy! You’ll hear my reflections tomorrow.

A Prologue to French Bastardization (French Toast)

To be fair, most of the foods I’m going to prepare will most likely be poor representations of their actual counterpart. In other words, my french toast ain’t gonna be joining any culinary U.N. anytime soon. And I’ll show you the reason soon enough. First, let’s show off our base ingredients!

Deux œuf! That’s about all I learned from my one week of learning French from Rosetta Stone. There it is. The secret ingredient: two large eggs.

And what’s french toast without the bread? I ended up using three pieces of whole wheat. Unfortunately, I didn’t have any actual French bread… Traditional, indeed!

A dash of cinnamon!

A teaspoon of sugar. A teaspoon is like a little spoon, right? Not an actual measurement? Uh-oh. Well, let’s just hope everything turns out okay. I mean, if I use too much sugar, it’ll taste sweeter, and if I use too little sugar, it’ll be a little healthier… right? Win-win? Ah geez.

Whatever-the-hell-amount of butter for greasing up the pan. And yes, it’s whipped butter because I didn’t have anything else in that ole fridge of mine.

Yeah, that’s right. I already deviated from the recipe by using whole wheat bread and by mucking up the measurements, but this is what takes the cake in terms of bastardization. I didn’t have any milk (all I had was soy)! I contemplated for what seemed like an hour on what kind of milk to get in the dairy aisle of my local Stater Bros. I wasn’t going to get a whole gallon or even a quart, since I don’t really drink the stuff. And since I’m getting such a small amount, why not chocolatize it? Yeah, this is probably a bad idea. One cup of TruMoo chocolate milk.

Well, there they are! A recipe for disaster or greatness? We’ll see soon enough.

Storm the Beach! Cook the French Toast!

What’s my egg-based recipe, you ask? Well, my friends have decided, and it’s french toast! Qui!

I love french toast. It’s eggy. It’s bready. It’s delicious. Who will win out in this battle? Me or french toast? Either way, I’ll try my best to hold out in this revolution. Time to ready the fork and guillotine… er, knife.