Babies are lazy bastards. When they’re not pretending they can’t walk so they can spend all day being pushed around asleep in a stroller, they’re listlessly having their asses wiped because they can’t be bothered to go to the toilet. They’re so lazy, in fact, that they can’t even be bothered to chew, let alone lift their own cutlery. But I’m on to you frauds and your tiny jars of all-in-one meal slush, and I'm coming to take your food away.
I'm an impoverished student of the 99 percent, so I know from experience that baby food is not just for babies. When the shit really hits the fan, we'll all be forced to stuff this mush into our emaciated maws, as the fatcats lord it over us with their superior banquets of mystery meat gruel and rainwater-that's-been-allowed-to-collect-in-the-outdoor-ashtray daiquiris.
The idea of ribs is exceptionally gross, because, when you stop and think about it, you’re basically gnawing on the remains of a pig’s back fat. So why not just not think about it at all? Why not just throw a load of baby food on top and pretend you're six months old again?
1 x cup of mango baby food (I used a mango and banana melba dessert)
1 x can of fizzy mango drink
½ x cup of brown sugar
½ x cup of ketchup
4 x tbspns white wine vinegar
1 x clove of crushed garlic
¼ x tsp cayenne pepper
1 x pack spare ribs
Summon up the courage to leave the house for the first time in three days and go get some fizzy pop from the shop. Ideally, you'll leave them to bathe in carbonated e-numbers overnight. If you can’t get hold of the heavenly nectar that is Rubicon, just use something vaguely tropical instead.
It's 3PM the next day. The ribs have been soaking for ages and it's time to get out of bed and whip up your complicated sauce, which you can do in all of three seconds by dumping your baby slush and ketchup into a pan. Hopefully you bought your baby food when you went to get the Rubicon last night, and now the guy who owns the local corner shop thinks you're either a terrible parent or the sort of person whose destiny it is to hang around outside Iceland talking to strangers with newspaper duct-taped around your feet. Who knows, maybe both.
Plop in the sugar and the rest of the dry ingredients to thicken up your ketchupy puke-soup.
Lastly, slosh in the now porky mango juice. Yummmm, floating meat chunks in fizzy pop. Why don't they sell this pre-made in cans? Stir everything through and leave the whole ungodly mix to reduce to a thin sludge. Like, not super thick, but sloppy.
Pour the concoction over your ribs, which are now in an ovenproof tray, obvs.
Cover with foil, then leave them to nap in the oven for an hour at 180c.
After an hour, check that they're not on fire or burnt into pork scratchings, then pull back the foily curtain. Slosh them about in the sauce, which should now be reduced and even more sticky, then crank up the heat and blast for another 15 minutes.
Sprinkle your finished ribs with some toasted sesame seeds so it looks like you know shit about cooking, and there you have it. All the scrumptiousness of baby food but only edible with adult teeth, so no asshole babies can get in on this delicious meal.
Previously – Girl Eats Food - Skittles Cups