A Series of Unfortunate Recipes
Come for the delicious recipes. Stay for the terrible story.
Peppermints and a Desperate Letter
To my kind webmaster, remember that you are my last hope that delicious food can again be enjoyed by the general public.
Recipe: Emergency Peppermint Bark
Break in case of emergency. Dark chocolate, white chocolate, pretzel crisps and peppermint candies, all melted together to form a delicious way to avoid falling into the clutches of a villain.
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July 31 - August 4, 2017 in Montclair, NJ
If you are a child and you are reading this, your parents are clearly neglecting your upbringing. This means they might be willing to expose you to further misfortune in the form of Unfortunate Summer Camp in the town of Montclair, NJ. Children in this camp will discover the true culinary history of the Baudelaires by cooking and eating the foods from this series, as well as discussing the books, deciphering secret messages and watching the Netflix episodes. Get all the details here, if you can't come up with any better ideas for this summer.
We begin at The Bad Beginning with misery and Puttanesca Sauce. If you are not currently toiling in the kitchen of an evil villain, you may enjoy making this yourself.
Recipe: Pasta Puttanesca a la Baudelaire
An accurate re-creation of the delicious Puttanesca Sauce made by the Baudelaires during their stay at the ghastly (a word which here means the kitchen was barely functional) home of Count Olaf.
This week, we have pudding. And chocolate. And chocolate pudding. And Julia Child. And many more words, most of which are too unpleasant to read.
Recipe: Classic Chocolate Pudding
Chocolate Pudding, made by means of scratch ingredients and without the use of packets such as the Baudelaires had to use.
Recipe: Aztec Chocolate Pudding
Speaking of unfortunate people, the Aztecs discovered that chocolate, chiles and cinnamon are delicious together. If you make this recipe, you may make the same discovery.
Week the Third:
This week, we endure a tragic lack of taste, an encounter with intemperate environmentalists, and superfluous synonyms. We then enjoy a delicious chicken dinner, which is how you can tell Mrs. Poe isn't cooking.
Poached (which here means "boiled") in a wine-and-herb broth, served with potatoes that have been simmered (which here means "boiled") in the same flavorful broth.
Blanched (which still means "boiled") green beans, drizzled (which here means "poured upon") with a combination of butter, olive oil, onions and garlic.
Week the Fourth:
This week we avoid cannibals and reveal an evil plot to destroy breakfast.
A delightful beginning to any morning, and therefore never served at Count Olaf's house.
Recipe: Cinnamon Maple Steel-Cut Oats
Steel-cut oats cooked with cinnamon, sweetened with maple syrup, and topped with walnuts and raisins or whatever toppings you prefer. Guaranteed to make you glad you're not a Baudelaire.
Week the Fifth:
Post: Cupcakes and Catastrophe
This week, all is not as it appears to be, and Sunny tells it like it is. And there's cupcakes.
Naturally pink with raspberry juices, these cupcakes are filled with delightful raspberry flavor, with an extra raspberry hidden inside, where Olaf can't get to it.
Week the Sixth:
Assuming you are neither treacherous nor incompetent, you may enjoy a slice of Uncle Monty's coconut cream cake this week.
Recipe: Coconut Cream Cake
As Lemony Snicket would say, this cake is "a magnificent thing, rich and creamy with the perfect amount of coconut."
Week the Seventh:
This week we explore a conundrum of esoterica, including sneaky scientists, acqueous martinis, mispronounced French cookies, and other mysteries understood only by people who are not me.
Recipe: Potstickers with Two Sauces
Potstickers served with Sriracha sauce and Hoisin sauce. Plus, a way to use the excess filling to make Asian meatballs.
Week the Eighth:
Cold Comfort and Chilled Soup
Bad food is a terrible thing. You can avoid another terrible thing by carefully reading the letter in this week's post, which either contains a secret code or an inordinate number of grammatical errors, or both.
This recipe was adapted from one that belonged to a snake charmer in Egypt. Delicious and minty, cool and refreshing, it tastes as if you are drinking something as well as eating it. A delicacy that is best enjoyed on a very hot day.
Week the Ninth:
A Meal with an Anxious Clown
This week we contemplate serious grammatical errors, fried zucchini and a bear who can't take a joke.
Unlike the items in the Extra Fun Special Family Appetizer, these zucchini sticks are fried to a delightfully golden-brown state of crispiness, and served with a savory marinara dipping sauce.
Week the Tenth:
Lake Lachrymose Cooking School
This week I refuse to talk about what happened at cooking school. And I strongly recommend you visit a nicer website anyway.
A recipe I learned in the Advanced Baking Course, with Very Fresh Dill and limes.
Week the Eleventh:
Post: Miserable Meals
This week, you can't judge a website by its cover, because it doesn't have one. Plus, what to cook while hiding in a cave.
Recipe: Sonoran Beef Casserole
A delightful recipe never served at Lucky Smells Lumbermill, in which ground beef, green chiles, ground cumin, Mexican oregano, tomatoes, cilantro, scallions and cheese are cooked with elbow macaroni in exactly the right proportions to make a delicious meal with no gum whatsoever.
Week the Twelfth:
In this penultimate post, we use advanced culinary analytics to assess Charles' omelette making techniques, and consider the side effects of hypnosis.
Recipe: Classic (Best) Omelette
If you would like to make a delicious omelette for your partner, this recipe gives you a detailed how-to so you'll know exactly what to do - and what not to do - so you don't serve omelettes like Charles'. (Spoiler alert: Step 1 involves breaking a few eggs.)
If for some reason you want to read the books, you will find them here:
And if you are a parent with the good sense to question whether these are the type of books you should be foisting upon your children, you may want to read my parent-to-parent review of the book series.
(When I finish weeping over this bowl of cold lime stew, I may write a review of the television series.)
By now you are probably aware that A Series of Unfortunate Events was dutifully written by Lemony Snicket to tell the true tale of misery endured by Violet, Klaus and Sunny Baudelaire at the hands of Count Olaf, and to clear his own name. Recently, Snicket has begun a new, even more desperate attempt to retell the treacherous tale on Netflix, in the form of a documentary.
As a student of the history of the Baudelaires, I have assumed the grim duty of reading the entire tragic series, and watching every episode, myself. You, however, are under no such obligation. From the Bad Beginning to the bitter End, this terrible tale contains vile food and unpleasant dining companions with treacherous table manners.
I have vowed to create this series of recipes for those who prefer to spend their time eating delicious food in the company of pleasant people. You may choose to follow along if you also prefer that sort of thing.
With all due respect,
Proprietress, Adventure Kitchen