WWFB: Five-Second Rule Edition
The scene: Your kitchen, Fakesgiving morning. You’ve been tasked with bringing something involving carrots to your in-laws’ Fakesgiving dinner, which is held annually on the weekend before Thanksgiving.
Don’t you hate those online recipes that have enticing titles and photos in the Google search results, but when you click over to the page you’re bombarded with a bunch of banner ads and inline ads and popup video ads and the page goes unresponsive for a bit because it’s just all too much for your browser to handle, and when you’re finally able to scroll, the first three-quarters of the page is full of the narrative musings of Jenni, a self-indulgent home chef who feels the need to explain how this recipe always reminds her of that time six years ago when Chad got down on one knee at the farmers’ market and she thought he was going to propose but he was just tying his loose shoelace, but as he rose he spotted a new vendor’s table with the most gorgeous carrots piled on the table which was covered by an adorable gingham tablecloth with lace trim that was clearly made by an old-world grandma with love, and he grabbed her hand and dragged her there to buy carrots (all the carrots!) and when I say dragged I mean dragged because Jenni was passive-aggressively upset that Chad hadn’t, in fact, proposed (and still hasn’t! maybe he has a secret wife who writes a different food blog! ooh, the plot thickens…or does it?), but that day wasn’t a total loss as it brought those gorgeous carrots into Jenni’s life, and she’s excited to share the recipe with you which she adapted from one she saw on the NYT Cooking website, and you’re never going to believe what secret ingredient she adds, and you scroll and scroll and scroll and scroll and it turns out it’s a just dollop of honey and now you can kinda understand why Chad didn’t propose because OH MY GOD IT’S JUST HONEY IT’S NOT LIKE SHE’S THE FIRST ONE TO ADD HONEY TO CARROTS WHY DOES SHE CALL IT A SECRET? No wonder Chad’s on the fence here. Jenni is kind of a lot.
Yeah, I hate those fucking recipes, too.
*Ahem.*
Where was I? Oh yes. Heirloom Floor Carrots. Let’s get to it!
HEIRLOOM FLOOR CARROTS
A recipe by World’s Worst Food Blogger, adapted from Jenni’s blog which featured an adaptation of a recipe from NYT Cooking called simply “Roasted Carrots,” which is a little uninspired if you ask me.
INGREDIENTS
- Carrots — enough to serve the in-laws plus some leftovers because OMG you guys these are THAT GOOD!
- fresh thyme leaves (1 tsp) — if you don’t have fresh, ask yourself if you’re really committed to this relationship because dried herbs are for the weak; actually, make it 2 tsp (YOU WON’T BELIEVE WHY!).
- extra virgin olive oil (3 Tbsp) — you’ll definitely need more, and yes, that is foreshadowing.
- Salt — so. much. salt. I don’t care if you have a heart condition; salt makes the world go ’round and don’t let your cardiologist tell you otherwise.
- freshly ground pepper — I sure hope you’re not using the black pepper that comes pre-ground in a jar; what, do you hate yourself?
- dried oregano (
½ tsp1 tsp) — OK, what I said earlier about dried herbs being for the weak? That might have been premature. Dried THYME is for the weak, but you get a pass on oregano. - flat-leaf parsley (NOT THE CURLY KIND–that shit is garbage!) — you’re going to need
3 Tbsp6 Tbsp, finely chopped. Or coarsely chopped…whatever, it really doesn’t matter, nobody’s going to be talking about the parsley AFTER THEY LEARN THE SHOCKING SECRET INGREDIENT THAT TAKES THIS RECIPE FROM GREAT TO GREATEST! - SECRET INGREDIENT: A dollop of honey (eyeroll)
PREPARATION
STEP 1: Prelude to a carrot
According to NYT Cooking, Step 1 consists of: “Heat the oven to 400 degrees. Meanwhile, peel the carrots and cut into 2-inch segments, then quarter or cut into sixths lengthwise depending on size. Chop the thyme.”
“MEANWHILE?” “CUT INTO SIXTHS?” Come on NYT Cooking, we don’t have a protractor handy.
WWFB Adaptation: JUST FUCKING CUT UP YOUR CARROTS TO BE ROUGHLY THE SAME SIZE IT’S NOT ROCKET SCIENCE. Also, be sure to put your vent hood fan on high because Chad is a big fan of cooking his frozen pizzas directly on the rack and he’s not super great at picking up after himself, so there’s gonna be smoke.
STEP 2: Shit’s about to get real
Quoth NYT Cooking: “Oil a sheet pan or a baking dish large enough to fit all of the carrots in a single layer. Place the carrots in a large bowl, and toss with the olive oil, salt, pepper, thyme and oregano.” DON’T FORGET THE SECRET INGREDIENT: A DOLLOP OF HONEY! (Credit to Jenni!)
OK, back to you, NYT.
“Spread in an even layer in the prepared pan or baking dish. Cover with foil, and place in the oven for 20 to 30 minutes. Uncover, and if the carrots are not yet tender, turn the heat down to 375 degrees and return to the oven for 5 to 10 more minutes. (For caramelized edges, roast uncovered for all, or part, of the cooking time.)”
WWFB Real Talk: You need to prep 2 sheet pans, and you need to use parchment paper, otherwise poor Chad is going to have a real mess on his hands when it comes to cleanup. Put one pan on the lower rack and one pan on the middle rack and swap them halfway through the cooking time.
AND ANOTHER THING! Allocate another 30 minutes for the cooking because no recipe in the history of recipes ever gives a realistic time frame for roasting vegetables. You’re going to need to watch these fuckers like a hawk though, because there’s a fine line between “caramelized edges” and “charcoal briquettes.”
STEP 2.5: Shit doesn’t get any realer than this
Using only one oven mitt, reach into the oven, grasp the first pan, slide it out of the oven and place it on the stovetop, but do it kinda crooked and a little too close to the edge of the stove.
Slide the second pan out of the oven, and as you try to make room for it on the stovetop, bump the first pan with the second pan because remember: YOU ONLY HAVE ONE OVEN MITT and you don’t want to touch that 400 degree baking sheet with your free hand!
With that fateful bump of sheet pan on sheet pan, watch as the first pan falls to the floor in slow motion, taking with it all your beautiful, honey-glazed, caramelized-edged carrots. Optional: Cry out “Nooooooooooooooooooooo!”, also in slow motion.
WWFB Note: You won’t find this step in the NYT recipe.
Step 2.75: This step separates the men from the boys, the women from the girls, and the professionals from the amateurs
Things start moving fast now: It’s Fakesgiving morning. You cannot show up to your in-laws’ house with half of the promised carrots. Chad is in the shower or playing video games or something…you don’t know, you don’t care: Point is, he is not here to witness what is about to happen.
Using two spatulas, scoop up the carrots from the floor and transfer them into a colander. Don’t think too much about whether those little dark specks are crispy thyme leaves or coffee grounds or random kitchen floor particles. I REAPEAT: DO NOT THINK; let instinct take over.
Run the colander under steaming hot water for as long as it takes to grab a paper towel and clean up the evidence of your domestic blunder. Sure, you’re going to lose the honey glaze and those crispy thyme leaves, but you’ll also be washing away all the suspect granules your sticky carrots picked up from your not-particularly-recently-swept kitchen floor.
Pat the carrots dry and return them to the baking sheet. Do you need new parchment paper? I think we both know we’re beyond formalities now. You need to fix this and you need to fix this NOW!
Drizzle the carrots with some more EVOO, sprinkle with a small handful of salt, grind some more pepper on top, throw on the extra herbs you prepped earlier (aren’t you glad you listened to me?), and squeeze another dollop of honey out of your bear-shaped honey bottle…hell, make it two dollops, this pig needs all the lipstick you’ve got. Then shake the pan rapidly (wearing two oven mitts this time) to vaguely distribute the toppings onto the carrots.
Turn on the broiler and roast those fuckers for another 5-7 minutes until the charred honey threatens to set off your smoke alarm, lest it arouse Chad’s suspicion. The less he knows about these carrots, the better.
STEP 3: Back to our regularly scheduled programming
NYT Cooking says, in a soothing yet authoritative voice: “Add the parsley, stir gently, and taste and adjust salt and pepper. Serve hot, warm or at room temperature.”
Do exactly that. Do nothing else. Wait, scratch that: Put the carrots into a dish with a proper cover so you don’t have a mishap in the car and end up with Twice-Floored Carrots. There’s no coming back from Twice-Floored Carrots.
If your sister-in-law asks for the carrot recipe, send her the NYT version. NEVER SPEAK OF THE CARROTS AGAIN.
VERDICT: 8/10 Would do it again, let’s be honest. Roasting any kind of vegetable is a major time commitment, and you can’t always count on having backup vegetables on hand, and with this being a holiday and all, time was of the essence. There was no option for a do-over. Minus 2 points for my own embarrassing lack of dexterity, and for the fact that FFS, the big secret is just a dollop of honey. A DOLLOP OF HONEY. Don’t be fooled by the clickbait and come here thinking these carrots have a tantalizing secret, other than the fact that they spent 5 seconds on the floor…we’ll just keep that between us.