The Cream Dream
As I sit here typing, a friend of mine is next to me eating the leftovers of his attempt at a homemade blooming onion. For those of you who don’t know, a blooming onion takes some of the best things in the world (onions, batter, spicy sauces, and deep-fryers) and combines them into a mouth-watering, grease-coated delicacy.
Well, that’s what they’re supposed to look like. My roommate just coated an unsliced onion in egg and flour and tossed it in a pot filled part of the way with olive oil. His didn’t turn out as well.
But that’s not my point. He’s a trailblazer, an innovator. I’m talking about a real citizen of the world type (He’s from Russia). His specialty? Homemade concoctions of the alcoholic variety. It’s with this medium that my roommate’s creativity really starts to shine through. You’d be shocked at what this guy can do with a couple of bottles of $10 whiskey, apple slices, and a tube of liquid caramel. Quite possibly disgusted, but definitely shocked.
It was the summer before our freshman year that he began perfecting his crown jewel: a highly-alcoholic, frozen mixture of a variety of vodkas, several bags of dissolved skittles, and some Sunny D. The exact recipe is top-secret, but he tops it off with a few cans of Red Bull, 5 Hour Energy shots, and some maraschino cherries and pop rocks for garnish.
Cream quickly became a regular fixture at birthdays, special events, Tuesdays, and other occasions we deemed important. At some point my roommate realized that it was a crime plain and simple to keep Cream a secret. And thus began the “Cream Scheme,” aka the “Cream Dream;” a campaign with the intent of bringing this divine nectar to the people. I would love to tell you that Cream was an unparalleled success, but it never really caught on. In retrospect I kind of understand how the stuff lacked mass appeal. It turns out that not everyone is willing to subject their body to that kind of abuse. But to be honest, I was initially swept up by the promise of the Cream Dream, pesky FDA be damned. You know that scene in Scarface where they’re cutting up coke, buying tigers, and generally kicking ass to the tune of Paul Engemann’s “Push It To The Limit”? Yeah, I have an active imagination. (Want proof? Witness my moderately offensive contributions to the Cream Scheme:)
Anyways, it didn’t turn out that way. Besides short-lived popularity at a random NYU party and a brief mention in the Village Voice, the Cream Dream eventually died. Personally, I find an empty jug of Sunny Delight to be a much more potent depiction of American Industry’s demise than any number of burned out buildings in Detroit. But even in the face of recession, we can’t lose hope. Maybe someday the steel furnaces in Pittsburgh will fire up again. Maybe the assembly lines of Detroit will once again crank and turn like the steady march of human progress. And maybe my roommate will toss a couple bottles of 160-proof vodka with skittles into a 5 gallon Autozone bucket and call it potable. That’s what America is about.
If you or a loved one has been affected by Cream or you just want to share your own recipes then please comment!