Know what I am suddenly and irrationally inspired and excited by? Marzipan.

Remember when Snopes debunked the myth of the marzipan babies in 2005? Those were exciting times in the internet world, but I think it’s time we start creating new internet memes by making new ridiculous marzipan sculptures a reality. Really, I just cant’s stop thinking about how delicious those babies would taste if they were real.

Also, I was inspired by the marzipan on this week’s episode of Weeds. Lame. I know. But I think something magical can happen from this idea, even if it is partially inspired by a quote from a TV show.
I’ve been trying to make this happen and am stumped about how to estimate the volume per pound of marzipan. Here’s the dilemma. WWTTD (What Would Thu Tran Do)? Read More!

In honor of the soon-to-be-released Sex in the City movie and this seemingly food themed week at GMSC, I decided to make myself some Balls for lunch. Here are just a few of the reasons:

• Things that come in pairs! (Carrie and Big? Meant to be!)
• Steve only has one (Salut!)
• Because I’m 100% sure Josh & Josh and their SATC obsessions have no clue how to cook Balls for lunch, let alone eat balls, although maybe I take that back.
• Regardless, something about that movie, a gentle May spring breeze, and GMSC has inspired me to feast upon a pair of balls. Look!

Now, allow me to teach you! Read More!

Remember the recipe I posted for a successful brunch, a couple entries down?

This is what it looks like when you add homemade homefries and a salad:

Isn’t it amazing to have actual original pictures and NOT rely on Google image search to illustrate one’s writing?

And yes, that is wild cold smoked salmon. Where can you get wild cold smoked salmon, you might ask? I splurged in this instance and went to Russ & Daughters but the thrifty and early to rise can find a wholesale store for individuals consumers at ACME Smoked Fish Co. in Greenpoint every Friday morning from 8am to noon for walk-ins. Wild Alaskan salmon is one of the few sources of sustainable wild fishing in the world and is a wonderful thing to support.

After six plates like this had been consumed, there was a lot of hollandaise left over, so I sat in the corner of my backyard and shovelled it into my face with my hands, like a bear with a pot of honey. Good times.

I have a friend. We’ll call him Marlie Cholsky to prtect his identity. If you’re like Harriet The Spy and want to know who this is, you can figure it out as he sometimes comments on this blog.

Well Marlie Cholsky had a european friend named Marcello (pronounced Mar-chell-o, because he’s euro, duh). Well, Cholsky and his girl friends were wondering if Marcello was gay or just European. It’s hard to tell. He sometimes talked about girls, and sometimes he talked about guys, and basically was a whole mess of sexual confusion to us Americans who need boundaries and labels in order to get our flirt on. One day, Cholsky receives a message, “I was wondering if you and your friends would like to go to brrrrrrrrrrunch?”

This sealed the deal. Marcello obviously loved men. Because only a homo would would invite a group of friends to brunch in advance and role all the r’s in the word with such ease and familiarity.

And in honor of memorial day, I thought I’d share an easy recipe for eggs benedict so that you can have all your faggy friends over or just make something for that special trick you woke up with. Read More!

Hey, guys, so there’s this really funny video? Made by Superdeluxe? A Web site you should all check out? Because it’s amazing? Also because friends Gabe and Jenny have a series there? Also because my future husband if he was gay, Brad Neely, is there? Also because of this, which I made a YouTube style reaction video to:

As much as I love this video I couldn’t help but wonder… what the fuck is a butternut reduction? Read More!

Happy Irish Day everyone. I’m a leprechaun and proud.

In honor of my people, I spent the whole weekend drinking and eating corned beef, cabbage, and soda bread. My mother sent me a loaf of her Irish Heritage Foundation approved soda bread, she won first place. But she’s Polish.

Here’s the problem with suddenly plunging my body into a world of braised brisket full of gelatin fat and beer. It leads to really weird dreams. Last night I literally dreamed that junkie serial killers lived next door to me and were leaving comments on my blog that made my site break because the comments had really weird html formatting. Like glitter graphics combined with blockquote tags and a LOLcatz graphics. Things no human being should do on the internet.

After the jump check out my super secret family recipe for corned beef and cabbage. Read More!

Because I am constantly need to find ways to drink more while preserving my waistline and, as less beer equals less calories, I ended up drinking vodka this weekend. And remember, if it’s clear it doesn’t have calories.

So what? Why is it noteworthy that I drank? I drink every weekend. This is why:

SHIT SHIT FUCK SHIT FUCK FUCK FUCK!

This stuff is serious poison. A good friend who works for NewFest had brought it to a party because they are a NewFest sponsor and he has a lot of bottles of it lying around leftover from events.

Yeah, sure, it looks like normal vodka. But in the fine print below that V2 logo is a very important message; this stuff is infused with taurine and caffeine. Read More!

Forgive me, babies, for not finishing this earlier. It’s been a couple weeks now since the end of my cleanse. I’d have wrapped this up earlier, but I’ve been too busy macing people on the streets who try to jump me because I’m so goddamn skinny now. Perhaps you’d like to see some before and after photos?

Before:

See the exciting results of eating nothing for two weeks - after the jump!

Read More!

This last weekend, I took another trip out to an area notorious for being white and rich: The Hamptons.

We made some delicious fried chicken out of Padma Lakshmi’s new cookbook, Tangy, Tart, Hot, and Slutty: I’m the Host of Top Chef Listen to my Opinions Blah or whatever it’s is actually called.

I made a video of the experience. I kind of was inspired by Ina Garten’s show, Barefoot Contessa, and tried to take lots of sexy close up action shots of food. Coming out to the Hamptons, I felt just like her 60 year old gay florist friend, Robbie. Ina introduces the show, “Robbie’s coming over tonight, and I’ve decided to make his favorite… pancetta rubbed southern fried chicken with creamed spinach and a very special gruyere mac ‘n cheese. For desert we have a chocolate torte in a lake of raspberry sauce. He’s had a really tough day so I want to do something extra special. It’s a surprise… shhh,” rasping in the restrained voice of a plump fag hag in denial.

But as usual, I got drunk and the thing turned into an annoying amalgamation of incomprehensible bullshit. But since I personally find it funny, I’m sharing it anyways.

In case you can’t tell at the end of the video, I don’t know the lyrics to Britney Spears’ “Gimmer More.”

So, I know that I promised to keep you kiddies updated daily on the health of my colon, but alas, I’ve had better things to do. Like drinking a quart of salt water every morning after drinking laxative tea at night to, you know, clear my pipes.

Anyway, I’m still alive after a week of not eating anything - which is more than I was expecting. But god, if I was a corpse I’d be way skinnier. I was hoping by now I’d have lost twice the weight I’ve actually lost, but oh well. Today my boss told me I looked “skeletal” and that makes me think I’m on the right track.

Next stop: