deranged from putting things into suitcases, Fred seeks relief in a giggle...

If you've been following this blog for a while, you'll know that I can't resist scary recipes. I grew up in a home where, if it looked like something was about to go horribly wrong with dinner, the whole thing would be cut into pieces and thrown into a frying pan with sour cream, dill and paprika, and served over noodles. Worse things could happen, and those ingredients are marvelous for the complexion, and certainly more filling and satisfying than, say, fiddly little canap├ęs. Like my penguins (search blog for "penguin").  But what happens when someone with no talent for improvisation follows directions exactly, or so they think, and things still go horribly wrong? Connoisseurs of these delicious moments will be grateful for being directed to one of my favorite sites,, which is an illustrated chronicle of - well, one awful mess after another. With themes. Please enjoy the site, and the rest of this long hot weekend while I see how many little tubes and sample sizes I can put into a small plastic bag. I promise a picture of my "personal best."


  1. Hello:
    We are going straight from here into the kitchen to make a start on our celebration cakes. We shall not, being ambitious, content ourselves with a single tank or one helicopter. No, we have in mind, inspired by 'cakewrecks', a complete re-enactment of the Battle of Waterloo in sponge and icing together with a few Madeleines to reinforce the French side.

    But we may need assistance with the body of Napoleon? Can you help?

  2. I'm faint at the thought of the Hattats entering a kitchen. As to the body of Napoleon, may I suggest simply evoking his spirit by having little frosting sabreurs moving on their tummies?


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