Awhile ago, a friend was having a party and I asked what I could bring. Well, she asked, what’s your signature dish?
My what?
Your specialty? The thing your family loves for you to make?
Prison Food……….my homemade concoction of Hamburger Helper. They go crazy for it but I don’t mind stopping at the liquor store for a bottle of wine if you think that might steal the thunder from your entree.
Maggie and Nathan had a party this weekend to show off the cute little house they’re renting and to gather friends to watch some college football.
I decided to make these because they’re so easy so good.
Except they’re not.
The gist of the recipe is to toss the pretzels in oil, sugar and cinnamon. Heat in the microwave for two minutes. Put more sugar and cinnamon on top and when they have cooled off drizzle melted white chocolate on top.
A monkey could make that.
I melted the chocolate in the microwave until I had what you’d call caulk. Spackle. Grout. Something along those lines.
Plan B. I put my caulk in a bowl atop a pot of boiling water on the stove and waited. The caulk didn’t budge. I pitched it and started over with the microwave method. This time I lowered the heat, checked every thirty seconds and ended up with a fudge blob. Undrizzable fudge.
Plan C. I remembered back in the day that I set my chocolate bunny next to the stove when The Queen Mum was cooking an Easter ham and ended up with a chocolate block in a box, so I put the blob in a dish on the stove while our chicken dinner was cooking and waited. When that didn’t work I shoved the whole mess in the oven with the chicken.
Hmmmm……….that looks like nuclear waste and smells like chicken.
In the meantime, I watched a youtube video on how to melt chocolate. The white stuff? It’s really hard to melt. Ghiradelli white chocolate chips? Fagettaboutit.
Plan D. I ended up making pumpkin bars after dinner. This time I had a beer during the prep. While looking for the powdered sugar we didn’t have, I knocked the brown sugar off the shelf which knocked my beer over and it guzzled onto the kitchen floor.
Jeezus take me now.
The Big Daddy saved the day and went to the store for powdered sugar that I spilled on my pants when I opened the bag.
Wine. It’s what I bring to a party.