First you carefully chop up a half-pound of cooked bacon—or hey, just use Bac-O’s. (At this point, you know it’s going to be good.) Add a heaping handful of chopped parsley. All you need is one magic elixir to combine these head-scratching ingredients into a company-pleasing juggernaut. Voila! Bust out the Durkee’s Famous Sauce—the mustardy/mayonnaisey/vinegary whatsit that has graced Southern shelves since the advent of post-funeral casseroles. Spoon in enough to make a fine paste.
At least that’s how my friend the Green Fairy remembered the recipe for this oddball hors d’oeuvre, as related to her with a straight face by a well-meaning relative. (She left out the important last step: “Now carefully scrape into a five-gallon garbage can.”) With several weeks’ build-up of marshmallow cream fudge, cheese straws and Chex party mix slowly leaving my system, I’ve decided it’s time to pay tribute to some of the weirdest festive food items I’ve encountered on a buffet line.
Sliced ham wrapped around baby dills and cream-cheese logs? Check. Petits fours that, upon closer inspection, were actually quartered Krystal’s cheeseburgers? Check (ulp). Cap’n Crunch diligently toothpicked and served with a bowl of dipping milk? Check. (Oh, wait—I brought those.) C’mon—raid the cabinets of your memory, and spill the cobwebbed contents.
Best festive-food memory: a sullen high-school friend telling my mother her snack mix needed more salt. He seemed pretty cocky about it, until she told him he’d eaten her bowl of potpourri.