Let's Blog It Out, Bitch

Yesterday, Iron Chef 3260 De Witt resumed with quite an ambitious endeavor. Joe couldn't just make maybe some macaroni and cheese, or say, fajitas or something. When he was in Georgia (again, not the home of Ray Charles, the country) he ate this bread and cheese dish called KHACHAPURI. Yes, it is as hard to say it as it is to prepare it. Perhaps harder. I got so fucking tired of saying it. I'm already sick of typing it.

Anyway, that stuff consists of a bread (which Joe was to make from scratch, something he'd never done before) filled with three cheeses: Mozzarrella, Feta, and Monteray Jack. The cheeses took some preparation; he let them soak in heavily salted water overnight. Yesterday when he took them out, it smelled like Abe Vigoda's crotch. Joe got to work kneading the dough while I shredded the cheese. Yeah, that's right, I participated in my opponent's recipe. I'm that good of a sport. I did contemplate sabotaging it by throwing in some unneccessary ingredients, such as dish detergent, but the cheese already smelled like Abe Vigoda's crotch.

Once all the cheese was shredded, Joe added one egg white, some plain yogurt, and THREE AND THREE QUARTERS STICKS OF MELTED BUTTER. I found this a little unfair, because if you put that much butter in anything, it's just gonna taste good. If I soaked dirty diapers in that much butter I could sell that at carnival stands. I would call it KHAKA-POOPI.

Anyway, we flattened out the dough and poured all that shit in there with the intent to fold it over. However, reading the recipe that Joe had from a friend named Tatia, we then noticed on the bottom that it said the ingredients she had given us were good enough for three very large Khachapuris and we might want to cut them in half. Well, we just made one fucking giant one. It was probably ten pounds. Holy shit.

Finally, once we got the thing folded over like a calzone, we threw it in a pan and popped it in the oven, which had been pre-heated to 350. From then on, all we could do was wait to see if Joe would redeem himself from his humiliating failure in the Iron Chef: 3260 De Witt Competition. Would Joseph Brian Sabia bounce back? Or would the meticulous preparation of the Khachapuri bite him in the ass? The one thing he had going for him was that the rest of us didn't know what it was supposed to taste like; he could totally fuck up and still do well in our eyes. But still, the concocture of cheese, yogurt, egg whites, and so much butter looked a tad unappetizing, and Joe had never made bread before. It was safe to say, none of us knew how it would turn out.

So we waited about 40 minutes for that thing to cook. When we took it out, we had this:
See that cheesy goodness oozing from the bottom right corner? See how the bread glows? It tasted amazing. Plus we wouldn't have to worry if that occasional group of wandering Georgians decided to show up. We had plenty of food for everyone! And with that, Joe took back the competition, hands down.

I don't even have a clue what I can do to compete with this. I'm at a loss. If anybody has any ideas, PLEASE, leave some in the comments section. If it isn't something that can compete with Khachapuri, don't bother.

I came all the way to Los Angeles to have cooking competitions with Joe Sabia. Fuck.