Emeril vs. Cthulhu
by Fenris
Kind of another anti-Emeril rant, but very specific. On today's show Emeril showed all the ways possible to ruin lobster: bake it 'till it turns to lobster-jerky, boil it 'till it's stringy (and don't forget: add lots of spicy sausage and spices so you can't taste the lobster), make fritters, so the lobster meat's taste is completely hidden by the doughy bread, make a savory lobster cheesecake. (bleagh. Just...bleagh.)
But Emeril's worst crime against humanity tonight is the following unholy concoction. It's so bad, that if one were to compare fictional characters to foods, this would be Cthulhu's. It's the cooking equivalent in evilness to Lovecraft's Great Old Ones. I am appalled.
The upshot of his recipe: Take vanilla beans (and yes, you condescending bastard, I know that you have to split them and scrape the seeds.), split them and put them in olive "erl" (oil). (His web-based instructions say to use vegetable oil, but I believe he said olive oil on the show) Heat the olive erl, but not to "burling"...a hint, Em: when cooks put things in hot oil it's called an "infusion". If you heat the oil up to high, the infused item doesn't "burl" (aka "Boil")...we, the precision-minded call heating something in rapidly bubbling oil by the strange term: "frying". Since you don't seem to be able to cook anything without that technique, I though you might like to know the term.
Anyway, he didn't say to wait for the hot "erl" to cool, anyone who followed his on-screen techniques is going to end up with very greasy scrambled eggs. Anyway, in a food processor, add tarragon, 'sarlt', lemon juice, Dijon mustard and egg yolks. Take the vanilla/olive 'erl" and make a mayonnaise by processing the first batch of ingredients and slowly pouring the 'erl' in.
When done, mix together cooked diced potato, "gaalik', celery, red onion, paaahsley, and cubed lobster meat.
Take some kind of lettuce and pour more of the vanilla 'erl' (a lot of it, judging from what he did on the show) over it. Put the greased lettuce on the plate. Mix the potatoes and stuff with the vanilla-mayo (garlic, vanilla, mustard (and possibly olive oil): this is actually Emeril's recasting of a famous cooking riddle: What ingredients, all of which taste great individually, are nauseating when put together? <barf> ). Put the vanilla/garlic/mustard/oily potato/lobster salad on the vanilla-greased lettuce. Serve. Watch the earth shudder at the loathsome horror you've created. The entire universe rebels against the evil of what you've done to a poor, innocent lobster. If I were forced to choose between drinking some of the deliquescing ichor of Jubbelix or eating this vomitous concoction, I'd have to think long and hard.
And one more thing, you greasy slob: it's not only rude, but it's dull to watch you breaking your arm congratulating yourself on how good your own cooking is. "Oh! MY! GAHD!" has become your mantra every time you taste test your food (by sticking one of your hairy, unwashed fingers in it, I might add). Please. Just go away. And take your greasy vanilla-garlic-mustard potato salad with you.
The Loathsome Thing vs Narylhotep
The world recoiled at the noisesome horror that was Narylhotep* as it strode the earth. Acrid clouds of smoke arose as its...'feet' touched the earth, poisoning the ground it touched forever. Narylhotep didn't notice as humans ran, evading it, they were less than ants beneath it's 'feet'. The squirming mass of tentacles that passed for a face suddenly turned in shock. It's head lifted, sniffing the air. Although this horror had existed since before the dawn of time, it smelled something new...and bad.
"BAM!" shrieked Emeril "BAM! LET'S KICK ID UP ANNADA NOTCH TA NATCHES UNKNOWN!" The greasy little man pranced out in front of the Elder Thing with a cart filled with covered platters. "LOOKID THIS" Emeril yelled in his nasal tones "I GODDA MEAL HEAH DAT'LL KNOCK YOUA SAHKS AFF!" (Emeril, never one to pass up mugging for an audience seemed unaware that Narylhotep didn't have feet, let alone socks.) Narylhotep felt...uneasy.
The hellchef reached over and removed the first cover. A greasy mass of what appeared to be deep-fried spaghetti wallowed in a yellow lake of grease. Clearly overcooked the blackened slimy mess seemed to ooze towards Narylhotep. For the first time since the dawn of creation, the Elder Thing backed away.
"HEY! WADDAYA DOIN' NOT TASTIN' DIS?! LOOKIT IT'S GOOOOOOOOOOOOD!" The hellchef stuck a greasy paw into the squirming mass, the hairy backs of his paws came up covered in ichor. He stuck his entire paw in his mouth. A look of pure bliss passed over Emeril's face "oh! OH! OH! MY! GAHD! DIS IS SO GOOD! YOUSE GATTA TRY SOME!" He held the squirming mass up to Narylhotep.
Narylhotep shook it's headlike appendage and leaned backwards.
"WELL!" said the necrocook "YAS DON'T LIKE DAT, DEN TRY DIS ON FAH SIZE!"
Another cover removed. A single pork chop lay on the platter. Glops of color had been dolloped on the plate in an attempt to decorate it, but instead had the unfortunate effect of looking like Jackson Pollok vomited on the dish. The pork chop itself was relatively benign. Until the devilcook pulled out a single bottle of Essence. A mixture of several spices designed to destroy the natural flavor of anything it touches, Emeril dumped half a bottle on the pork chop. A brief noise could be heard, as if the pork chop itself was rebelling from this, the last indignity.
Narylhotep shook it's headlike appendage again. It was feeling slightly ill. How could this be? Narylhotep fed on souls and the terror of mortals. No normal food, however vile should be able to bother it. But this...
Could this little thing, stuffed sausage-like in a too-small chef's outfit be another Elder-God, disguised somehow? Narylhotep, forcing itself to ignore it's revulsion, leaned forward to inspect Emeril more closely.
At that same moment, Emeril removed the third cover. It was a salad. But this was no ordinary salad. This was the Saladnomicon: the lost salad of the mad Arab Bha'b B'gboi A'l Ahazars: The yellow oil glistened like geoduck-slime on the dark, sodden leaves. The scents of vanilla and garlic intermingled in a way that man was not meant to intermingle. The helpless chunks of once pristine lobster-meat no longer cried out at the indignity that had befallen them: they were broken.
As the scent reached Narylhotep, the Elder Thing was enveloped in the miasma of the evil that was the Saladnomicon. The tendrils of scent reached, vapor-like into it's internal organs. Narylhotep died. With a ponderous slowness, the creature toppled and fell forward, on top of the hellchef, crushing him and his Entrees of Evil with a mighty, earthshaking BAM!
Several blocks had to be deserted until the question of how to dispose of the food was dealt with. (HAZMAT teams in positive pressure biocontainment suits did most of the removal. Only three members died.) Once done, Narylhotep's body was left to rot "It smells better than Emeril's so-called "food" did" said one resident.
And so, two mighty evils were defeated that day.
But beware...things like Emeril always come back.
* In the first draft, this was going to be Cthulhu, but upon reflection, Cthulhu is most likely still copyrighted. Hence my made-up Elder Thing. While it's name bears some slight resemblance to one of Lovecraft's creations, any similarity with any Elder Thing, awake or dreaming in lost R'ylleh is purely co-incidental.
Posted 6/11/01