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KERF Recaps: Reboot Edition, Posts 113-114

Kathy, who consumes things that exist, had to take a break in between writing her two-part post about her weekend. Obviously. You can’t cram baby shower cupcakes, a 7-mile magazine walk, a visit to the farmers’ market, “date night,” and

many hours crawling around on the floor playing <3

into a single post. This is some epic, intermission-requiring, “Gone With The Wind,” Full-House-two-part-wedding-cliffhanger content:

• Not only did she bring corn AND beans to that Sit on the Lawn For Free and Eat thing they do, she also brought bread. And there was basil in the corn-beans and spinach in the bread. That’s practically turducken levels of complicated.

• A market triptych of faceless man lurching just out of the frame, disembodied elbow, and woman who just wanted to pick up some anpan and pie and can’t remember where she parked the damn car.

• A meatless patty in a sandwich that appears to be falling to pieces before our eyes.

Yes, Kathy, we understand it’s exciting to bring the look of a molded-aluminum diner table to your fingertips, but pull yourself together. Also, it’s not entirely clear what Baby Carbz’ shirt says, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Kathy reviewed something from the friendly folks at Arc Jap. Or Fake Map.

• A video spliced together from tiny clips of women talking off-screen while we pan over their cupcakes. Eighty percent of Kathy’s video is that, and when the woman the shower is for finally shows up, the video ends right as she’s about to — as far as I can tell — introduce her baby to the camera.

The “K” in “Kerf” stands for “Klassy!”

• No one could doubt Kathy’s commitment to sparkle sandals —

 — while a hungry Bath Matt stared out the window moodily, because hey, I guess getting fed up is at least getting fed, right?

For dinner, he had duck (because Baby Carbz will probably be in college by the time his dad can get duck for dinner again), while she ate cheese balls and patties of beans, rice, and coconut with greens. So, the same exact kind of stuff Kathy tries to make at home all the time, except with no crock pots or wicked, wicked dishes to clean! They also ate some mushrooms and parsnips and had their puny minds blown:

These shrooms were so meaty I couldn’t believe they were a vegetable.

Dude, they’re not even plants. (Also, young lady, you are grounded until you give those stoner kids from the 90s back their lame drug terminology.)

• They ate a cookie at their neighbors’ house.

Speaking of free food, on Friday, Kathy unveiled her latest detailed, nuanced review of a delicious local farm’s product and how she cooked it into something delectable-looking. No, not really. She reviewed bagged, already-chopped pH testing strips of radishes sold at a little store called Walmart. How quaint!

She writes:

I have to say, radishes haven’t always been on my favorite vegetables list. But that is mostly because, while beautiful, the red spheres that come out of the ground are not the easiest to use in the kitchen.

No, it’s because they don’t pair well with buttercream frosting.

Why had I not thought to slice them into sticks before? …You could do this yourself, but the availability of these pre-cut radish sticks will save you lots of time and energy.

How the fuck does the quality of needing to be chopped make something “not the easiest” to use? Kathy can’t bear the thought of going near a nectarine, a carrot, or a scuffin that hasn’t been prepared in bite size. Also, would you really be spending hours a week slaving over a cutting board preparing the week’s radishes if it weren’t for this product? Fruit flies that have a month to live have enough time to chop radishes.

Said radishes came from a food company called Duda, the Spanish word for “doubt,” as in “I doubt Kathy gives a shit where they’re grown or sold as long as she can violate the word ‘crunch’ in a review.” And violate the word “crunch” she does as she  whirls us through the exciting world of putting radishes

• on lettuce: “Love the purple color they brought to a green salad and the extra crunch.”

• in a dry pan with 26 grains of salt and a burning no-meat burger, or as she calls it, “sautée[ing] atop.”

• in a dish she half-assed for a friend’s cookout:

It turned a boring green pile into a colorful, crunchy, gourmet side dish.

Yes, nothing imparts gourmet quality like Walmart provenance.

• on a piece of bread with avocado and cheese:
Cruuuuunch!
• subject to the heavy pen of some poor copyeditor, apparently:
Cooked in olive oil and garlic with salt and pepper, radishes amped up basic sautéed spinach served alongside salmon and potatoes and fresh zucchini another night.
What I want to know is, what did that salmon ever do to you, Kathy?

It’s okay. Show us on the doll where Kathy cooked you.

• sneaked to Baby Carbz in cooked form, as though he were the loyal dog in a sitcom gag, eating the spinach the precocious, tiny blond children don’t want.

• in another dish she was trying to pawn off on another unsuspecting friend:

Just a little Greek yogurt, mustard, salt, pepper and paprika turned them into a creamy, crunchy lunch.

And when she means just a little, seriously. The paprika is only visible in subnanometer resolution. Kind of like what seriousness Kathy had about the art and technique of cooking and enjoying food.