In 1990 or so, my dear friend Mary and I went to the thrift store in Riverside, California. We bought 50's house marm dresses. For some reason. Then we 50's upped our hairs. Then, in our 50's garb we cooked fish sticks for her mom. We blew the house down dude. It was total awesomeness that only occurs when you are 17, a nerd and bored out of your fucking mind to the point of performance art. Suck it, Tina Fey. It was one of my most favorite memories of my life.
So someone had to ruin it.
These bitches have made a career out of our amazing idea, Mary.
Lookie here. The Casserole Queens.
Yes... they have a website, a blog, a book, an order-out service (they come dressed in 1950s bullshit upon delivery) based around one dish wonders. I'm jealous. I'm pissed. I'm intrigued. I'm flipping through my personally signed copy of their book.* I'm making a grocery list. I'm trying to start my own franchise. I'm canceling my franchise partnership. I'm not cooking for strangers. I can't wear high heels and deliver food. Gross. I'm jealous though. Still.
*Thanks to my friend Liz for the early Xmas gift.
**Yes I was around in 1990. I know, it's totally hard to believe based on my amazing skin and hair.