Contestants, first of all—before you read Jeremy’s comments–I want you to know that I love you all. I appreciate all your hard work. After all, you’re keeping my readers entertained while I skip around town like a drunken sailor writing plays and defacing property. Your hard work is much appreciated. If Jeremy’s comments across as cruel and unusual, just remember that he’s a lawyer. Sure, I’m a lawyer too but I don’t practice. And once again, thanks again to Jeremy for playing judge and jury so effectively. I’ll paste his judgment below, but contestents don’t forget: please e-mail me who you want voted off by tomorrow night at 9 pm. A non-vote is a vote against yourself. And, of course, don’t vote for the person Jeremy gives immunity to. They’re immune.
Hello again, surviving Amateur Gourmet Survivor contestants.
You all obviously put a good deal of effort into your entries, but I have to award immunity to one of you. So, in reverse order of likelihood of winning immunity:
Catherine: I am not sure what this entry is about. I think it is about sugar. But I know no more now about sugar than I did before reading your entry. And I wouldn’t feed those canapes to my worst enemy.
Wendy: You offered a few valuable observations: (a) eggs consist of yolks and whites; (b) whites can be beaten into meringue, but only with the assistance of machines; (c) development efforts for egg-mounted lasers are ongoing. But your post doesn’t apply this valuable knowledge in any useful way. Better luck next round.
Nick: Turning a blind eye to failure to follow directions, I still can’t give you immunity. Your explanation of the life of coffee from tree to cup is largely accurate, but pretty boring. And I am skeptical of your dry-bean-makes-you-thirsty hypothesis.
Dallas and Andrea: What were the odds you would both choose honey? Both of you obviously did your homework on the biological properties of this fascinating ingredient. But like Wendy, you didn’t really apply this knowledge in your recipes, delicious though they may be.
Harry: Your recipe scares the shit out of me, but I have to admit I find it rather intriguing. I have done a little research, and apparently you are not the only one who makes dulce de leche in the can. But I don’t know if the fact that you did not cause an explosion in your kitchen has to do with the boiling point of water or the fortuity that you used a can capable of withstanding the interior pressure of a liquid heated to that temperature. I suspect the condensed milk makers are on to the shenanigans of you and your ilk and have designed their cans to withstand such stresses, but I cannot condone a project that could predictably result in the severe injury of TAG’s readers. Kids: DO NOT BOIL UNOPENED CANS, and if you do, WHICH YOU SHOULD NEVER, EVER DO, please make sure they are fully cooled before you open them, or you will be sprayed with a high-pressure jet of face-melting pain. (And incidentally, the browning of dulce de leche owes at least as much to Maillard reactions involving the milk proteins as it does caramelization of the sugars; especially where the sugars never reach a high enough temperature to fully caramelize.)
So that brings us to our final contestants: Michelle and Fae.
Michelle’s description of yeastie beasties is largely accurate and cleverly illustrated. Her recipe puts these properties to work in a tasty way. Michelle: you took this assignment and fulfilled it with aplomb. Well done.
But Fae taught me something I did not know before, and I read a lot about food. The discovery of bunny-flour molecules and their cake-morphing properties is worthy of a Nobel; surely it deserves immunity. Congratulations Fae; your originality and insight have saved you from the cruel judgment of your peers. Immunity is yours.
Thanks everyone for your efforts. Good luck in future rounds.