Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Day 1: Dear God, Let me Die!

I admit, for all of my fearful posturing in the introduction, I was pretty excited about The Can Game. After all, it gives me a chance to do what I love to do, which is cook bizarre crap and then force it down my gullet. I also get to make other people both eat bizarre things, and eat my "cooking". What could go wrong? It turns out....lots.

See, when Meg and I picked our cans, we aimed for things that would be interesting, hard to guess, or fun to write about. Sara and Mike apparently chose things starving wolves and hobos had picked over and rejected. On a scale of one (food) to ten (canned assholes), I rated our selections at about a 4. Sara and Mike rated theirs at The Innsmouth Horror.

Press on, heroes. I made Meg pick our first stop on the journey to Candemonium. She chose #3.

I choose to believe that they duct taped the outside because the 'food' within had burned through the can, Raiders of the Lost Ark style.

Our menu for the night consisted of a sausage and artichoke pasta with red peppers and fresh mozzarella cheese. In a perfect world, this can would have contained some delicious sun dried tomatoes. Or perhaps a tapenade for our loaf of french bread. What did we get?

1: Anticipation. 2: WTF? 3: Goddamn spider eggs.

Eggs. Canned eggs. What could produce those eggs? I have no idea, but assume spider. That's right. We get to cook with spider eggs. The can smells like high school chemistry. The outside of the glistening white orbs is tacky and beslimed.

The inside? Delicious cream! Just kidding, it's bird vomit.

Ok, we have to eat 50%. That's 9 eggs. First step? Basic edibility check. For you non-pet owners, that means feed it to the dog and see if he pukes.

What's this? Treats?

I'm on fire on the inside! Please kill me now!!!

...Ok. That's not promising. That beast eats coffee grounds. He would probably eat scorpions with every sign of enjoyment. Still, he's just a dog. What does he know? Maybe it's really quite tasty, and his palate just can't appreciate the nuance.

Me: Perhaps it just needs salt. Dog: You were a good man. You'll be missed.

Well, I only gagged like four times.

Whatever, so they're not a snack food. I turned a hamburger into soup damnit. I'm not going to just give up because it tastes like the garbage disposal. I just need an idea. After some thought, I came up with Son in Law eggs. Thai dish that consists of a hard boiled egg that has been deep fried and served with sauce. I have some hard eggs...just need to whip up a sauce. Seems simple enough.

Stupid photobomb cat.

I set Meg to making sauce. After all, it involved everything that she loves. She got to meticulously measure ingredients, whisk things with vigor, and beat the damn cat away with a crutch.

She's a natural.

I heated some oil and put the eggs in to fry. My plan was to let them crisp, turn them on all sides, and produce something that was crisp and covered in sauce (and therefore hopefully untasteable).

What could go wrong? I'm a genius.

It's a trap!

See what's missing? That's right, there's an egg gone. You want to know why? Because it fucking exploded. As I was staring over the pan in confusion, another exploded right in my fucking face and hands. Really guys? Not only did you send me Spider Eggs...you also had to rig them to blow the fuck up? I get that I'm not going to get a flavor explosion from these hellcans, but I didn't expect an actual explosion. Jesus.

This is the first day. It's going to be a long week.

Plan B. Chop up what's left, and cover it in cheese.

Boring? Perhaps. But it has 100% less chance of exploding.

The final product:

Yeah, the 'spidereggandcheesewich' is the most appetizing part...

That pasta, huh? Grim. That's foul stuff. Over cooked, globby cheese, no 'sauce' to speak of. Yuck. To be fair, I had some other concerns (like being covered in mother-fucking spider-napalm). Time to put it to the test.

Me: It's like somebody pooped in melty cheese! Meg: If you close your eyes, you can pretend you're just eating toasted garbage!

Me: The first degree burns really added to the flavor! Meg: I'm eating cat food for the rest of the week!

Truthfully, the grilled spider sandwich actually was the best part of the meal. After eating it, we decided that the pasta was a total wash, and started from scratch. We went back into the kitchen, started with all new ingrediants, and prepared something truly divine.


  1. Ok, so two exploded. Explosion doesn't count as eating. If you ate less than 9 eggs, fuck you.

  2. I think explosion could count as Divine Intervention...