The Cooking Method Which Made Fanny Gas By The Gallon
And thunder down-under like a Harley
The Haven interrupts its regular publishing to report the death of the woman whose cooking technique helped people lose weight, but produced backblasts which could rip Kevlar® panties to shreds.
Dr. Tillie Novotny was a retired chemist on the Leelanau, a peninsula in Michigan’s Up North known for vast cherry orchards, a hundred scenic miles of Lake Michigan shoreline, and people who believed fried edibles were an essential food group.
That wasn’t unusual. In the Up North, dinners typically included a fried entrée: fried perch, bluegill, or bacon-fried Spam®. A fried “side”: french fries, onion rings, or fried mac ‘n cheese. And for dessert, fried pudding, Twinkies®, or on Easter, deep-fried Cadbury® Crème Eggs.
Naturally, that left residents on the “stocky” side. Except in the Spring, when they’d drop twenty pounds. That was so they could wear bikinis and Speedos without embarrassment in public during the “swimsuit season.” (Which, in the Up North, starts when the ice on Lake Michigan is gone.)
Dr. Novotny came up with a cooking technique which helped them lose those pounds. One which was superior to their usual methods — charcoal cleanses, liver flushes, the tapeworm diet, and “Partying Off The Pounds” with Richard Simmons — because they could eat as much fried food as they liked. Her method: before frying a food, dip it in water or batter containing hydroxypropyl methylcellulose.
HPMC is a odorless, tasteless, non-toxic white powder. Though similar to plant cellulose, it’s man-made. Indeed, it was formulated at a Dow Chemical plant two hours southeast of the Leelanau. Dow sold it to food and personal product companies: when added to shampoos, toothpastes, meringues, and milkshakes, HPMC created a gel which made the products feel rich and thick.
Dr. Novotny proposed another use. To make french fries, for example, create a water solution of two percent methylcellulose. Dip raw potato slices in it; that coats the slices with a thin, imperceptible film of HPMC. Then fry them. The semipermeable film allows the hot oil to cook the slices, and give them the desired taste, appearance, and crunch. But it reduces their oil absorption — and thus their calories — by forty percent. HPMC did the same for all fried foods, whether dipped in water or slathered with batter.
To spread the word about her method, Dr. Novotny demonstrated it to her fellow church ladies at Gills Pier Presbyterian. She won them over: every edible had the look, taste, and mouthfeel of fried foods, but with far less oil uptake. As a result, the church ladies included instructions for using Dr. Novotny’s frying technique in the Spring edition of their cookbook, Easy-Peasy Presbyterian Recipes.
Sure enough, people slimmed down without cutting back on fried foods. Indeed, the method proved so effective that, by the end of May, most people on the Leelanau were frying with “meth.”
Then a problem appeared. Swimsuit season was fast approaching; the ice on Lake Michigan was nearly gone. But most people still hadn’t achieved their weight-loss goals. So, to drop those last few pounds, they used more “meth.” The prescribed dose was two tablespoons of HPMC per gallon of water or batter; instead, people measured it out by the gravy ladle.
The result was an unforeseen byproduct: flatus, and lots of it. Humans, you see, don’t digest HPMC: unlike beavers and cows, we lack the enzymes which break down cellulose. However, the microbes in our guts ferment it. And when HPMC is consumed in large quantities, they do so with gusto. The result: ginormous silent-but-deadlies — only without the “silent.”
The first sign that people were using too much “meth” was insuppressible ass quacks. But they were too near their weight goals to stop now. So they just wore boxers over briefs to muffle their butt yodels.
Then the staining farts started. And worse: semi-solid “back draft surprises” when guys bore down while wizzing standing up. But people soldiered on. Indeed, they doubled-down — literally: they put twice as much HPMC into their solutions and batters. And if guys had to sitztinkle ’til further notice to be safe, so be it.
From there, emissions became measured by the cubic foot. Consider: people normally generate a quart of flatus per day. Those who abused “meth” made three times as much. A day’s normal output could be vented with a cheek-squeak every two hours. “Meth” users did a thunder-down-under every hour.
People tried butt-clenching to moderate their output. That was risky. “Meth” emissions didn’t just flutter one’s fanny. These were large-volume, sub-sonic butt sneezes. Blow-back like that could rip panties to tatters.
True, people found ways to contain their “brontofarts.” They’d wear Carhartt® French Knickers made of heavy cotton duck canvas. Or even heavier Kevlar® boy shorts. That kept their undies from being torn asunder. But there was no suppressing the noise; it’d have been easier to muffle a motorcycle engine with a paper bag.
Over time, Dr. Novotny realized that people would usually use too much methylcellulose to meet their weight-loss goals. So she arranged for future editions of Easy-Peasy Presbyterian Recipes to include guidelines for using “meth” responsibly.
- Don’t attend religious ceremonies which may be disrupted by a booty tuba. Especially a wedding, funeral, baptism, or bris (Jewish ritual circumcision).
- Avoid meetings where a fanny blast may derail your efforts to reach your goal. Such as a job interview, performance review, driver’s license road test, or parole hearing.
- Postpone procedures where butt barks may distract your doctor or dentist at a dicey moment — say, during a root canal or vasectomy.
- Finally, coitus and “meth” don’t mix. Because at the worst possible moment, a person’s brontofart may blow their sheets, pillows, and partner right off the bed.
