imageThis is my favorite boy, his name is Buster. He is a something something mountain dog. I didn’t microwave him. He’s one of those bright spots in my day. If I’m having a marginal to bad day, seeing him waiting for me makes me smile no matter what. I ask him to shake for cookies and even when I’m out of treats he keeps shaking my hand thinking I’m hiding them or something. Burnese mountain dog. He’s huge, gotta be at least 120 lbs, and such a gentle guy.

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Trader Joe’s Chicken Chow Mein-ish Thang

I have no qualms about saying that as far as chow mein goes, my standard lies within the inviting automatic doors of Panda Express. She’s a loyal girl, that sexy panda. I pretty much know what awaits me whenimage I flip open that half melted styrofoam. Orange chicken, beefy bits with broccoli, and my noodle party, Mr. Chow Mein. I’ve ordered pad Thai, another popular noodle Asian dish with which many are familiar, and I’ve taste tested several in the area. I still can’t distinguish between them. However my chow mein experience lies solely between the black circled eyes of a half bear half kitten beast. I was on a shopping spree that day, stocking up with supplies that would feed me during a broke period I foresee in my not so distant future. With unhinged glee I filled my basket with the fanciest frozen food Trader Joes has to offer. (Except for the fish and meat and whatnot because I’m not a millionaire.) Well hello there Chow Mein. If I can make a 29 cent package of top ramen taste like a 39 cent package of top ramen, this’ll be a piece of cake.

I followed the instructions of course, and they were wrong, of course. You need to heat up a little oil in the pan on high heat, dump in the contents much like a dump truck fills the landfill with garbage, and wait. First of all, these noodles were still frozen solid by the time the veggies were done. But still, I cover it and wait. Because I do what I’m told. Finally, after  singing The Beverly Hillbillies in my kitchen about 4 times the noodles got loose enough to stir and add sauce.

Bottom line: the noodles were gummy, the sauce was far too salty, and the bell peppers were cooked way before the noodles were which rendered them slimy and bitter. I have forgotten my star rating plan, which is why I proudly leave Trader Joes Chicken Chow Mein with zero happy faces. I just remembered. And the picture shows up halfway through this post because I forgot how to format. It’ll get better, I promise.

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Groasted Barfy Chicken with Parmesan Sludge.

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ಠ_ಠ

I’ve been illin’ all day long. The last thing I needed to introduce to my battered organs is this shit. Let’s start at the beginning, shall we? I took Bella to school. Came home. Realized I forgot to pack her a snack. Went back to school armed with cheez-its and grasshoppers. Came home and proceeded to vomit violently and repeatedly. I’m pretty sure I should be in a hospital bed right now with an IV drip. I’m never eating at Cotija again. 

I bought this particular Lean Cuisine on a whim. It was $1.50 and I love garlic, chicken, parmesan and spinach. In fact I’m pretty sure I could throw those four ingredients in a bowl blindfolded and end up with something edible, at the very least. Stouffer’s has found a way to make it disgusting.

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How this is “Lean” in the first place boggles the mind. From the photo you can clearly see the chicken pieces kickin it in what appears to be The Gulf of Mexico. Unless they’ve invented fat free oil and didn’t tell me, this sorry excuse for a meal isn’t even healthy. My body is in some serious nutrient deficiency. I could probably eat a spoonful of sand and find it delicious. So it should speak volumes that not only did I find this gross, I also found it inedible. It’s sitting here next to me uneaten and coagulating into a sticky mass that’s going to stab me in my sleep. So unless you have a hungry enemy I would stay far far away from this mess.

 

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Prepare to be smacked in the face with delicious.

Prepare to be smacked in the face with delicious.

Do you ever feel like a fat fuck? I’m laying in bed, popsicle in mouth, watching the Golden Girls. This has been my existence for the last 3 weeks. I’m not ashamed. I’ve been abstaining from alcohol as much as I can. When you can get drunk off your own fumes at 9am there is a problem. This was the case about three weeks ago. I love me some poison. I have had to re-adjust my brain to remember that boredom is not only normal, it’s required in life. I’ve also been told that I’m a wonderful person when I’m not drinking. I work out, I’m a neat freak, I’m responsible, and I’m anal retentive. Like, as in, I hold my poops in? I guess? Onto the Thai.

I love thai food so much. If I could wear a curry suit and thai I would. Unfortunately for everybody I can’t be naked and covered in curry at work, because that would be too awesome. Bottom line is I crave Thai food non stop.

Finding a new microwave meal I haven’t tried is like Christmas Morning. And it says it’s Thai. I laugh because you can’t just call shit Thai. And it’s almost June. And I’ve eaten it several times.

So many fucking carrots, it’s hard to comprehend. I expected it to taste like dehydrated ass, because I fucking hate carrots.

These noodles are not normal noodles. These are rice noodles. They are sticky and gummy and yummy and delicious. They’re the same type of noodles you get when you order Pad Thai. Glassy and porous.

I feel bad writing about microwavable thai dinners because apparently 37 people died in a tornado in Good Ol’ Oklahoma. From what I’ve read this particular tornado was a piece of shit bastard. I thought all tornados we
re the same, but apparently they aren’t.

There’s also chicken. It only comes with like 5 pieces of chicken, but the chicken pieces are big enough that they microwave really well and you can divide them in two so now you have 10 pieces of chicken.

I love this frozen deallybob. Highly morbid indeed.

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Chicken Makhani

Chicken Makhani

You’ll have to forgive me, I haven’t blogged in years and I forgot the format.That lean cuisine looks kidnapped, but I assure you I paid for her fair and square.
“An Indian Lean Cuisine?” I said to myself. “What sauce, What juicy looking chickeny things, What rice with green shit in it.” It must be good. I’m not a huge fan of Indian food, but I love Thai food, and I’m pretty sure India and Thailand border a river of curry somewhere in the northern peninsula. So I said to myself to fuck it and I bought it.

Let me preface this by saying that when I buy Chicken Makhani at the store I buy twelve of them.
The reason for this is that when Lean Cuisine is on sale at my local Whatchacall, this particular LC is almost always sold out. Word has obviously gotten out.
First of all, its a Frisbee Lean Cuisine. Toss it in the radioactive appliance and 5 minutes later you’re a happy camper. No poking, no peeling, no slotting, no pulling back, stirring and then replacing a half melted piece of plastic. The plastic comes pre-melted.
I read thru the ingredients and I noticed almonds. Almonds are good when they’re in my hand and I throw them at my face. But when they’re part of my meal or dessert I worry. Same thing with raisins.
Three minutes into cooking I start to smell it. A rich sexy aroma of curry and cinnamon. I start to seductively dance to Come Undone. As it cooks I smell the herbs from the rice. I start humping a chair to Dancing on the Ceiling.  After 5 minutes my co-workers are like, “What the fuck are you doing?”
Lunch I say. Hands down the best Lean Cuisine I’ve ever had.
It’s creamy, sweet, salty, the almonds give a nice crunch, spicy, and the chicken is toothy without being gummy.

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Satan’s Stir Fry (courtesy of Norm and Clark)

I had to make it look pretty somehow.

It’s not easy to write under pressure, but Clark is forcing me to empty my head so I will.  I stumbled out of my bedroom to find Clark and Norm doing what they do best, gay cooking. I like to make fun of them, but in reality Clark’s cooking is something most people would only hope they could masturbate to.  Whether it be pig burritos or stir-fry, Clark knows his way around a kitchen.  He will make a good submissive Japanese wife some day.

Today they made stir fry with rice. By the time I got to it, it was in containers in the fridge, which is perfect because I like to nuke shit. Be you a lightbulb or a frozen dinner, I take extreme delight in watching things cook way faster than nature intended.

The stir fry was absolutely beautiful and I’m sad I wasnt around to witness the birth. How can you combine chicken , water chestnuts, venom, peace, and horror? Ask Clark. He knows how to make it delicious. He decided to add a ghost chili, which all by itself is disgusting, to the mix. And even though I HATE ghost chilis, he somehow made it work and I would like to shoot him in the eyeballs for that.

I have a serious ghost chili envy. I can’t add it to anything without it tasting like spicy ass. My friend Robby made a hot sauce out of it, Clark uses them in his fabulous stir fry. I am supposed to be the goddess of spicy and yet I cant look at that dried pack of wilted demons without wishing they would just go back to hell where they came from.

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Trader Joe’s Chicken Tikka Masala

Yes it is blurry and crooked, welcome to my world. Oh by the way….

☻☻☻☻☻☻

I understand chicken. Maybe not mentally or emotionally, but I understand the cookiness and the tastiness. What the hell is Tikka Masala? This is another Indian concoction from Trader Joe’s and I have to be honest, this one was stolen. Thanks Norm! I’m job hunting and bored, so I must do what I can. Consider this my Hamburglar review or something.

When a meal demands to be pierced two or three times, and you use a fork, does each stab equal 4? Well to be on the safe side I poked it twice.  Pulled it out after three minutes, (that’s what he said) stirred it, and put it back in.  When I pulled it out for the second time the microwave door caused my fork to fall on the floor. And call me crazy, but I’m pretty sure it dinged the first 5 notes from ‘Ordinary World’ and now I have it in my head.

According to Wikipedia, Tikka Masala  is a curry dish in which roasted chicken chunks (tikka) are served in a rich orange, creamy, lightly spiced, tomato-based sauce. (We have a redundancy on our hands)  The origins of chicken tikka masala are disputed. The oldest claim is that it was created for the Mughal Emperors , although some claim the origins of the dish in Glasgow, Scotland.

Scotland my ass. The land of boiled fish and pickled carrots? This didn’t come from no Scotland.  First let me tell you that I’m having a very difficult time telling my story because its hard to type when you’re sucking on a fork. Secondly, Oh My God. I dont know what Masala is supposed to taste like, but if it doesn’t taste like this, India needs to update their recipe. If I could give it 6 happy faces I would. Oh wait, I can and I will.  I have found Mecca and I do believe I will stay here. I’m ready for my dot.

Whenever I discover a new food, beverage, music, movie, or person I am crazy about I immediately use Google. I need to know all about it and trace the route from it’s origin to me. Apparently I’m not the only one who friggin loves this. It is evidentally on every microwave blog I never knew existed and now am feeling insecure about.

Wow, I just licked the container. Never did that before. I went to Trader Joe’s immediately after eating this to, you know, buy more, and while I’m in the frozen food section, as if an angel was sent from heaven, a woman saw me feverishly pawing at the frozen stuff with spirals in my eyeballs and froth ever so delicately hanging from my nose and mouth. She looked at the masala I had in my hand, and perhaps on my hand, and asked me if it was any good.

“Oh, it’s funny you should ask. I actually review microwavable food online. This one got an okie dokie.” I said as I gave her The Fonzi.

“That’s great.”

And with that she walked away. Alright Devilwoman. When I’m ruling the world with my opinions I plan on finding you and drowning you in a pool of masala. Overreaction? Perhaps. Necessary? Fuckin a.

So when I got to the register with my bounty I stood there pondering my blog, “is it really worth it?” And when I handed ol’ four eyes my credit card I could see he noticed the masala sauce all over my wrist. I would have been embarrassed were it not for the fact he was clearly eyeballing my hand with hunger and jealousy. I was wearing a ponytail at the time so I made sure so swing it extra hard as I grabbed the bag and walked away. Cause I’m fierce like that.

First let’s talk about the rice. It looked kinda foreign to me, all skinny and long. I was worried for a second that it would taste like toothpicks in ketchup. But holy shit, its probably the best rice I’ve ever had. In fact my only complaint is that there wasn’t enough of it. Now lets talk about the sauce. A bit tomatoey, a bit cinnaminnie, curryish, and spicy. It’s very bold, yet delicate. Its also all over my keyboard. I fingered it. Which means its lovely. There were only four pieces of chicken, but they were large enough to withstand the micro, cooked and juicy all at the same time, and to be honest if there was no chicken and more rice I would have been happy as a clam in sand. The chicken was actually the last thing I ate.  I cant sing enough praises about this. Coming from an Indian food retard.

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