Forget Lindsay Lohan. Forget Charlie Sheen. You know who I want to party with?
Paula Deen, y’all.
Who else can take a ham to the face and just keep on laughing? And her time management skills are pretty darn solid. Unlike a certain girl that just spent forty-five minutes trying to photoshop a picture of her licking Paula Deen and tossing hams…which ended quite tragically, I might add.
So instead, I made a picture of Paula Deen licking Charlie Sheen.
Which, bee tee dubs, is fun to say. Try it. It’s lyrical and shit. Paula DEEN licking Charlie SHEEN. Paula DEEeeEEEN licking Charlie SHEEeeEEEN. I feel a uke composition coming on.
Also, have you ever noticed that if you roll over on your good ear and cross your eyes, you can almost convince yourself that car horns sound like violins?
Why yes, I did have trouble sleeping last night. How did you guess? Also, I might be suffering from that Writer’s Block thing I keep hearing so much about.
Well that’s not exactly true. I had every intention of writing a book review today but I seem to have spiraled off the track somewhere along the way. Damn you, Paula Deen. Although we’ve yet to meet, you’re a bad influence on me already with all your boozing and butter spreading and ab licking.
Hey. Here’s an idea. You, me, Russel Brand, NPH, five tons of butter, four small cranes and a whole mess of Sculpey. No? Too early in our friendship?
It seems a little late to try and turn this back into a book review, don’t it? Oh! I know! I’ll embrace my inner Paula Deen, y’all!
While I was home, I stopped in at the famous Stamey’s to pick up a mess of barbecue and hush puppies for Rocco. As I was waiting for my order, I noticed the subtle, four foot photo of peach cobbler beside my head and remarked to Dad, “Shit. I forgot cobbler. Rocco would have loved some of that.”
Dad slowly shook his head and whispered, “That isn’t cobbler. Ask your mom about the recipe she found from Grandmama Lonon. THAT’s cobbler. We’ll get her to make some while you’re here.”
And Interwebz? That shit was good. So good, in fact, it’ll make your tongue slap your brains out. Which may be why I have no brain left to write a coherent post. Consider that a warning I guess?
Unlike 99% of Grandmama Lonon’s recipes, there’s no fatback. Don’t tell my new bestie Paula, ok?
Anyway, here’s the recipe. (Slightly altered from the original because I refuse to buy canned berries in syrup.)
Grandmama Lonon’s Cobbler
4 cups frozen fruit (I like mixed berries)
1/2 cup butter (See Paula? We didn’t forsake you.)
1 cup flour
1 cup sugar
1 tsp baking powder
splash of apple juice
pinch of salt
1 cup milk
Bring fruit, apple juice, and 1/4 cup of sugar to a boil. In the meantime, melt butter in a 2 qt casserole. (I like to get the dish and butter hot in the oven cornbread style so there’s a nice crunchy edge when you add the batter.) Mix flour, remaining sugar, baking powder, and salt. Stir in milk. Beat until smooth. Pour into casserole. Pour hot blueberries on batter. DO NOT STIR. Bake at 350° for about 1 hr. The buttery cake rises around edge of fruit.
It tastes like home in the summertime – my favorite thing ever. After this picture, of course.