My Confession

You cannot repeat this to anyone, especially the fact that it came from me. There are a couple of recipes I have until this moment refused to share with anyone. This is not because the recipes are particularly prized. I am embarassed by them. Why? I think they are cheating. I feel wrong saying I "baked" or "made" the dish. Yet, the food produced by these recipes are often huge successes at parties, so I've always felt like I must make them, both because they are asked for by name and if anyone knew the secret, I would be exposed. I would be a "short-cut cook." I shudder at the thought. Continued...

Why tell you all this? Because I refuse to make the stuff anymore. All this time, the things I have been praised for came from prepackaged mixes and cans. Minimal preparation. Minimal brain function. And I don't really like the food (mostly because I am a foodie snob, but whatevah).

The first recipe is the ultimate in lameness, but people love the darn stuff. Sometimes called "Pink Stuff" of "Blue Stuff" I know it as "White Trash Delight."



One thawed container of Cool Whip
One can of either cherry or blueberry pie filling
On can of crushed pineapple that has been thuroughly drained
Chopped walnuts optional

Fold together in a bowl. Chill. DONE.

Doesn't that just seem wrong! When people at a party ate this faster than my "Slaved Over A Hot Stove Tarte Tatin" I was crushed. It is the most processed, hydrogenated, sugar filled substance ever. And people love it. You can serve it with pound cake, fruit salad, or even use it as a cake filling. Just keep it cold.

Just as worse is my famous Pineapple Upside Down Cake. All you do is melt a stick of butter in a rectangular cake pan, add brown sugar to cover, arrange pineapple slices(save the juice)and cherries. Then prepare BOXED YELLOW CAKE MIX and use butter instead of oil, pineapple juice instead of water, the eggs, and a tablesppon of dark rum. Pour on in the pan, place the monstrosity in the oven as delgated by the box. Cook until done. invert. Whipped cream.

People have actually hired me to make this. Paid me good money to make this. It blows my mind.

Martha, please don't hate me. I realize this is Rachel Ray territory. I promise I'll never do it again.

I am ashamed.

::bows head in shame::