We have a friend who, for reasons that are not altogether clear, recently came into possession of bags and bags of strawberries -- we're not kidding here, she had probably twenty pounds of strawberries. We were summoned, both to try to make sense of the rather strange acquisition and to try to figure out what do with the things before they started to spoil.
The Strategy:
Take these:
and using this (recipe may be found here):
turn them into that:
The Process:
There are three main steps: (1) make the strawberry bread; (2) macerate strawberries; (3) make whipped cream.
First you must cut up a bunch of the strawberries. Please take note: of the black nail polish. We're told this is necessary to create a sufficient contrast between finger- and fruit-color. Otherwise, one might cut one's finger off. That, or our friend is an emo-goth-strawberry lover. Regardless. The point is that knives are involved. So be careful. (Especially if you're emo-goth; we hear those people are always trying to cut their wrists).
Next you need to fill up a blender with a quart of strawberries. Usually you are not good with things such as converting quarts into ounces. But luckily you were educated at a gigantic state university, at which you spent an inordinate amount of time drinking quarts of Miller High Life (champagne of beer). You recall that the bottles were 32oz. You recall that 32oz equals two pints. You learned other things during your time at university. You just can't recall much of it now.
Strawberries in a blender are like those mortgage-backed securities you thought we gonna be your ticket outta blogspot. Here today:
Gone tomorrow.
Next, crank up Def Leppard. And pour some sugar on me.
Tim Gunn once said that, included among the reasons he loves working with Heidi Klum is that "even her knuckles are gorgeous." (No really, he said this). So, if you're an aspiring knuckle model/german supermodel/reality television series judge, this next step in the process will appeal to you:
Whip the yellow stuff (it's funnier if you're Asian while doing this)
Then whip the red stuff (it's funnier if you're Communist while doing this; it's highlarious if you're, say, a North Korean while doing both steps.)
Then put your concoction in the oven. Wait a bit. And out comes this:
We have never been much for strawberries -- something about the taste of those little seeds freaks us out. We've also never been much of a cooker. Luckily, both of these problems may be overcome through copious amounts of sugar and liqueur.
Strangely, the scent of orange peel also makes strawberries quite tasty.
Next, carve up your strawberry bread.
And fill it with strawberries.
Then, put the lid back on.
Obviously, this blog post has been filled with juvenile humor (one of the nine habits of highly successful people). But this next part is not us trying to be funny. The recipe actually charges you to "whip the cream until stiff peaks start to form." Kinda pervy. But everybody loves playing with hand blenders.
Smother the top with your delicious homemade whipped cream.
And add your delicious orange- and booze-infused strawberries.
In Conclusion:
A tasy summer treat that even a non-strawberry lover will enjoy.
