Ever sat behind a competitive eater in the Burger King drive-through line? Who has that kind of time? Not you, not me. We need to cook for ourselves in this busy, rockabilly world.

New recipe. Ever tried Panda? It’s cheap, and Aunt Ramie, she done said they a recession on.

Serves

4 humans, 1 Big Cat or 16 dozen piranha

Preparation time
90 minutes to 50 years, depending upon availability of Sequoia leaves in your area.

Ingredients

Salt
Black pepper
4 D-cell batteries
Garlic powder
Garlic salt
Onion powder
Parsley
Oregano
Basil
Cilantro
Chili powder
Cayenne pepper
Red pepper flakes
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
Cloves
Allspice
Paprika
Ginger
Cumin
Thyme
Rosemary
Dill
Sage
Celery salt
Curry powder
Ketchup
Mustard, yellow or brown
Salsa
Salad dressing
Mayonnaise or Miracle Whip
Butter or margarine
Barbecue sauce
Theater popcorn
Parmesan cheese
Pickle relish
Soy sauce
Steak sauce
Worcester sauce
Tabasco sauce or similar hot sauce
Vinegar
Sequoia leaves
Did I mention pickle relish?
Honey
Sour cream
Sweet and sour sauce
Chocolate syrup and other sundae toppings
Tartar sauce
Cocktail sauce
Creamy horseradish sauce
Oatmeal
Arugula
Panda. If it is alive, stun it with your wit and good looks.

Kitchen Equipment


This recipe calls for a slow cooker. Get your cousin Fred.
Also needed: large pot, bread machine, crockpot, socket set (metric).

Directions



1. Install granite countertops. Won’t improve panda, will impress neighbors.

2. If none is readily available, plant a Sequoia tree. Wait. Then, mash a quart of Sequoia leaves (dried) in a blender (stainless) with a half-cup of olive oil purchased from a virgin. (L.A. cooks – travel to Utah.)


3. Zest a lemon. Set aside. This recipe does not call for zest of lemon.

4. Using only your feet, knead two pounds of dough. Toss it out the window. Nobody wants that now.

5. Down three jager bombs and raise a glass in memory of Ed McMahon.

6. Add something yellow. Not lemon. Anything but lemon.

7. Slice panda thighs in three-quarter-inch thick strips. Get as far as you can without waking panda. For tracking purposes, stamp a UPC code on each slice – makes the line move faster at the post office.

8. Go see a movie. Bring back one cup of theater popcorn. Eat it. This recipe will take a while. I’m only thinking of you, here.

9. Pour in one cup of chicken stock. Dump all your other stocks – they’re worthless.

10. Dare to dream. No, on second thought, despair.

11. Give generously to the Jimmy Fund.

12. Add ten eggs. Subtract two.

13. Add one back. Say “culinary delight“ in James Earl Jones’ voice.

14. Trim your bangs. You’re overdue there, Ringo.

15. Douse panda limbs with olive oil and shake on all spices in an amount you consider indulgent to the point of onerousness. When wrists show symptoms of carpal-tunnel, stop shaking. Heat, turn, heat, turn, feel the burn.

15a. Look up “onerousness.”

16. Carefully drop limbs into a blender and press button marked “Maximum Scoot.” Note: you will hear the sounds “Thwap! Thwap! Ga-zhonga floop floop floop.” This is perfectly normal, unless the blender is not plugged in yet, in which case, see your orthopedist.

17. Get drunk on power, just to see how it sits with you. Sober up, it’s over now.

17a. Ever visited Nova Scotia? Me either. Hear it’s beautiful. And, oh, the people, so accommodating. But salmon. Bleah.

18. Chop and shred your unopened 401(K) statement. Shred your resume too. These are artifacts of days gone by, friend.

19. I said uncooked! Don’t touch that!

20. Reset your clocks. Get a receipt. Elevate your legs to reduce swelling. Place an aspirin under your tongue. Squaredance among standard poodles.

21. Start a cooking show in England. Should it succeed, amp it up for American audiences. Add swearing, yelling, angst, electric guitars and melodramatic gestures.

22. Drop a roasted chicken on the floor in loving memory of Julia Child.

23. Keep calm and carry on. Buy 2 and save $7.50 each. Return one. Profit.

24. Get out of jury duty. Lift your own mood. Wax your legs. Wax mine. Not the left; it’s solid wood. Or is it the right? I can never tell – prosthetics are so advanced these days.

25. Drive to the Slauson cutoff. Cut off your slauson.

26. Order a nice set of maintenance-free teak patio furniture. You’ve earned it. You get what you pay for. Send me a check for the difference.

27. Sing a chorus of “Stand by Me” while seated. Stir.

28. Heat the mixture at 400 degrees for 90 minutes or 900 degrees for 4 minutes, until golden around the edges. Serve with passion. And rice.

Chef’s addendum: If you have no panda, condiments, or spices, it is considered perfectly alright to substitute sliced turkey on rye with mustard.

© 2009 Jeff Sawyer