Commenting on foul food does not only mean going into the store and mocking the packaging on the shelf or wayward Scandinavians. (Although it does provide entertainment to go up to the display of Triscuit boxes and laugh maniacally at it. Not that I would know. (Whistles and looks up.))
Foul food can be a homecooked creation inspired by life, love, or drug-induced munchies, and love most certainly beckons with this particular cookbook.
Apart from the virtue that this tome is rightly patronizing toward “the younger set”, the recipes are astounding. Let’s look at the ingredient list for a simple salad that doesn’t use complicated words like “champagne”.
Hmm…frozen peaches, lemon jello, lettuce, mayo. Who wouldn’t succumb to the allure of a semi-deity who was capable of making this fine dish? But then again…
Upon closer inspection, I sincerely wonder what this food will do to the poor sap who eats this. Is the arrangement of the jello molds a clue about some odd phallic disease…especially in such close proximity to the nut meats? Is this a subtle commentary about what happens to men after marriage? Maybe the pain won’t be sham after all?
Regardless, Date Bait is the one book I would rescue if my house were burning down, and I cannot believe my dear, sweet husband still wanted to marry me even though I was thoroughly unaware of this written marvel’s divine recipes at the time. I most certainly hope I can make up to him in whatever amount of time we have together, which may be limited if I feed him anything from this.