As a general proposition, I am very fond of allrecipes.com. If I need to find the best recipe for, say, flaky pie crust, I know that on allrecipes I will find at least 50 choices, sort-able by reader ranking and bolstered with tips from said readers about how the recipe worked in practice and what changes they recommend. It’s not a Wild Kitchen Adventure sort of site (actually my brain is my best resource for that kind of cooking) and it isn’t necessarily the place to find the cutting edge haute cuisine of the day straight from A-list chefs. (although I have found some pretty interesting things). It’s a reliable source for recipes that work, and in my experience, the highest rated recipes always do the job. Some of the workhorse recipes of my repertoire, from my lasagna to my marinated vegetable salad come from a fruitful search of allrecipe’s bounty.
Based on my deep and abiding trust for the allrecipes community, I signed up some time ago to receive a daily recipe via e-mail. The format is excellent; I receive the recipe du jour, along with a vegetarian alternative, a budget-friendly version, or a dessert or cocktail suggestion. This is a handy little package if the recipe is something I might cook. Sometimes it is. I have tried and liked several of these offerings, including Greek Chicken Pasta, Mongolian Beef, Chicken Taquitos, and Dijon-Tarragon Cream Chicken.
Last week, I received a recipe for “Raspberry Kielbasa Over Cheese Grits.” The recipes come in while I am sleeping, and I hadn’t yet had a cup of coffee; thinking that I had, perhaps misunderstood the nature of the recipe, I opened the message. There was no mistake: it was a recipe that called for kielbasa, raspberry preserves, mushrooms and cheese grits. I have eaten snails, unidentified dim sum, and tiny Korean fish with their heads on, but I cannot in my wildest dreams contemplate the intentional preparation or serving of kielbasa with raspberry (mushroom?) sauce. I like raspberry preserves, sorbet, pie, berets, cobblers, blintzes, and can even readily conjure a raspberry sauce for chicken, duck or venison, or drizzled over a baked brie. I draw the line at polish sausage. (True confessions, here: I do not like kielbasa very much, but I swear to you that this has nothing to do with my revulsion about this recipe. It’s just sick and wrong).
God bless the contributor of the offending recipe; he or she is probably far more sophisticated than I will ever hope to be. Or far less. I haven’t figured it out quite yet. I will not link to the recipe because I would hate it if someone posted a recipe of my creation as the object of shock and horror. Besides, you aren’t really going to make it, even if I show you where the recipe is. It would be like stopping by Frederick’s of Hollywood under the guise of buying a negligee and a new whip, when you really just wanted to see whether there were any men there picking out size 13 marabou bedroom slippers.
If, by some chance, you have made this dish and enjoyed it, let me know and I will be publicly humbled. Of course I would much rather hear from you if you have made the dish and fed it to your corgi.