This week marks the six month anniversary of this blog, which is pretty cool. That means I've made 72 dishes from the box including 6 cheesecakes (with another on the way this week!), 2 disasters, and one boozy drink.
I've taken a lot of pictures, learned where the best light in my kitchen is, and found a workable substitute for shortening. I got a job, went on holiday (3 times!), and celebrated both an anniversary and a birthday with key lime pie. I've also barely put a dent in the total recipes in the box, but I'm trying to go easy on myself on that front-- it took Eleanor 40 years to collect 'em, so as long as I get through them faster than that, I'm still winning, right?
In honour of the six-month-iversary (demiversary?) of this blog, here's some potty humour for you: Eleanor was so painfully proper that she referred to bodily functions as 'chi-chi' and 'boo-boo.' Even when she was potty-training her own kids, that's the only way she ever referred to using the bathroom. Before you ask, no, I do not know which one was 'chi-chi,' and I'm pretty sure I'm ok with that.* Anyway, I always thought those were the two dumbest names I had ever heard of for anything related to... you know. But then I moved to Scotland and learned the phrase 'trapped wind,' which means... well, I'll leave it to your imagination and just say that it's not fit conversation for a food blog. A co-worker of Judson's taught it to him one day and ever since it's become the Scottish phrase that most cracks us up, despite how gross it is. If you ever come visit us in Scotland, just know that the word wind has a whole different meaning for us now.
So of course when I found a recipe for Wind Pudding in the box, I was immediately as tickled as an 11-year-old boy, especially when I realised it's literally a 3-ingredient recipe that sounds (and, in fact, is) terrible.
When I made this, it was a miserable failure. Although I'll be the first to admit that I regularly suffer from cooking-related mishaps, I have a hard time believing this one was my fault. I really think that marshmallows in Scotland are just different than their American counterparts. Seriously: I think American marshmallows are mostly vegetarian these days, but the ones here-- which are much more delicious, in my humble opinion-- are still made with beef gelatin, which renders them chewier and stiffer than American ones, and, in this case, less likely to melt in pineapple juice. I think the marshmallows in the recipe were supposed to kind of dissolve in the pineapple, then the whipped cream would have made the entire mixture like a creamy Dole Whip. But instead, the marshmallows just swelled slightly, holding their shape and texture, and just sitting on top of the pineapple, which was now extra-dry because the spongey marshmallows soaked up all the juice. It's also possible that the size of the marshmallows contributed to this problem-- mini marshmallows have not yet been invented in Scotland, apparently, so I had to use regular-sized ones. Although the recipe doesn't specify the marshmallows should be miniature, I can't imagine it would have hurt.
Even Judson turned up his nose at this, and Judson loves marshmallows.
In conclusion, I have no idea what the 'wind' in wind pudding is referring to. Was it a reference to the tropical breezes of Florida and the fact that they carry with them the sweet smells of tropical fruit, like pineapples? Or was it referring to the air in the marshmallows? I don't know, and I failed at this recipe, big time. Don't make this recipe. Please.
*As a kid, my mom made the grave mistake of telling me this, and I've still never passed a bottle of Chi-Chi's salsa without giggling.
1 spoon out of five. This is the dumbest recipe that exists.
Soak marshmallows in pineapple overnight.
The next day, whip the cream.
Fold whipped cream into pineapple mixture gently.
Take a bite and then immediately wish that you hadn't.
1 can crushed pineapple
1 cup marshmallows
½ c whipped cream