Manicotti

Dear Reader,

I would like to congratulate the producers of The Real Housewives of New York City. They have amassed the most horrifically idiotic and self-centered women in not only my great city, but in the world. Not since Sex and the City have I had to endure this caliber of monotonous droning from such materialistic morons. The worst offender is obviously Kelly Bensimon. Note to Kelly: “sophomoric” does not mean you are a sophomore in high school. And sorry sweetheart, there isn’t really anything funny or cute about arthritis. Also honey, you may be too old for high school games, but you’re also too old to be wearing those teeny-tiny little skirts, you cow.

You may be asking yourself, if I have such a negative opinion of these ladies, why do I watch the show. The answer my friends is simple, I can’t NOT watch. For me, it is a great opportunity to get my aggression out. A sort of Bravo-inspired primal scream therapy, if you will. To watch me watching The Real Housewives of New York City is akin to watching old Joe Six Pack watch the Superbowl. I pull my chair right up to the television to better feel like Alex can hear me screaming at her through the plasma screen. “Hey Skeletor! Your husband looks like a sexual predator and your children are never going to read the complete works of Dickens, even if you go to the Strand and buy all the books at once, you pretentious creep!”

Naturally this excitement works up a bit of an appetite. So this week I treated myself to Your Fixation on Bravo Housewives is Bordering on Masochism Manicotti with Three Cheeses. Enjoy!

With deepest sympathy,

Heather

Your Fixation on Bravo Housewives is Bordering on Masochism Manicotti with Three Cheeses

You will need:

1 cup flour
2 eggs
Pinch of salt
1 cup water
Oil
16 oz. ricotta cheese
1 cup grated mozzarella
½ cup grated Parmesan
1 egg
2 T. chopped parsley
Jar pasta sauce
Throat lozenges

Make crepes while speaking in bad French the way that Alex and Simon speak to their children, such as, “Now I will whisk zee flour, zee oeufs and zee water with zee salt into a little bowl. Please Francois, stop all zis screaming and running around, okay bebe? Ah voila! Zee crepe batter is finished! Oh Francois, why did you dump it on zee floor?”

Next heat up a small pan with a some oil – more oil than is on Kelly’s face, but less than is in Bobby, Jill’s husband’s hair. Put a small ladleful of batter into the ban and swish it around to coat the bottom. Cook one minute then flip and cook 5 more minutes. Repeat until all batter is used up just like Luann’s fifteen minutes.

Preheat the oven to 350° then make filling. But first call Jill to see if she needs a tennis partner. When she asks how you got her phone number, tell her that Zang Toi gave it to you. Mix ricotta with ½ cup mozzarella, Parmesan, egg and parsley in a medium-sized bowl. Advise Jill that she needs a better gay best friend; perhaps one that knows better than to wear over-sized yellow suits. Do not congratulate her for almost fitting into a size zero! Not while you’re elbow deep in three kinds of cheese, anyway. Season with salt and pepper.

Dump a few glugs of pasta sauce into the bottom of a baking dish. Spoon some of the filling into the crepes, taking note that the crepes are the same color as Alex’s skin. Roll up crepes, making one of them really skinny to represent Bethany. Stand that one on end and make a few wisecracks before laying it in the pan, fully aware that Bethany needs to get laid more than the Manicotti. Repeat with remaining crepes.

Send Ramona a quick email to her Blackberry asking for her expert fashion advice – after all she went to FIT and used to work at Macy’s! Plead with her to do something about those crazy bug eyes. Every time she makes a point it is terrifying – she looks like a skittish bushbaby on a rainy night. Pour a few more glugs of sauce on top of crepes and bake 30 minutes, while you yell at Kelly through television. Suggestions for what to yell are:

Who are you?
You are old!
Wear a brar!

Enjoy Manicotti with a full-bodied red wine such as a Cabernet or Beaujolais while screaming more at television, being careful not to choke. Follow with lozenges to prevent hoarseness.