Better Bunker Snacks and Hacks

So, like us, you've been storing provisions in your doomsday bunker since at least the Clinton administration. We all remember how real shit got as Y2K approached, and we knew ol' Bill wasn't gonna save us, the old swamp monster. So, we went to bed on December 31, 1999 thinking we'd wake up dead. But on January 1, when we emerged from our caves, bunkers, panic rooms, and fallout shelters, we were pretty shocked to find the world hadn't ended after all.

Meanwhile, those of us planning on repopulating Earth after the machines and vaccines killed the sheeple stored many pallet-loads of necessities down there, including a few barrels of Pablum for all the kids we had to have. And we've kept topping off the pantry ever since. Most of us have a shit-ton of provisions squirreled away.

Thing is, people who were of childbearing age back when you could still buy Pablum are well past their fertile years right now. Unless we can bring our whole families down there with us, meaning the grands, great-grands, great-greats, and all the foster kids, we're going to have to use up that Pablum before it goes bad in, we figure, about the year 2043. The farina, oatmeal, wheat germ, and cornmeal will probably survive another 1,000 years like Twinkies, but the powdered beef bone, now that could go off sooner. 

We don't want it to be bad Pablum that offs us after we survive the The End. 

Fortunately, Pablum isn't just baby grub. You can use it in all kinds of savory or sweet recipes and for off-label hacks we'll get to later. If you're going to use your stash now, while we're all still here, just remember to save enough down in the bunker for the apocalypse because that's coming, and soon. Next Tuesday, for sure this time!

We don't have much time, so let's get started with a couple of recipes. Of course, we haven't tested them, because that would be science and we don't do that, so let us know how it goes.

Cream of roadkill soup

1 pound fresh(ish) roadkill (your preference: squirrel, possum, armadillo, rattlesnake, bald eagle, turkey vulture or whatever you've got), cleaned and skinned, de-scaled, or plucked

2 large carrots, cubed

1 medium onion, diced

Lard or axle grease

Salt and pepper

8 cups water

1 cup Pablum

1. In a large stock pot or cauldron, sauté onion in grease until soft.

2. Add water, meat, and carrots.

3. Bring to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for 24–111 hours or until tender.

4. Remove the carcass with a slotted spoon or garden rake.

5. Separate meat from bones. Save the bones to make soap, dog food, or fancy jewelry.

6. Chop the meat unless it's already liquified, and return to stock pot.

7. Season to taste.

8. Serve warm with Pablum crackers.

Pablum crackers

Pablum

Water

Salt, to taste

Lard or axle grease (to grease pan)

1. Preheat oven to 400 degrees, or, if the bunker was raided by the FBI and you're hiding in the woods, throw some wood on the fire. 

2. In a large bowl, mix Pablum with enough water to make a soft dough.

3. Add salt and stir until evenly distributed.

4. Knead for at least six days, preferably 10 or more. You may want to do this in shifts, but start early enough to get it done before the world ends.

5. Roll out to ¼ inch thick and slice into two-inch squares.

6. Bake on greased baking sheet until crisp or over open flame until charred but not ashes.

Bonus: reconstituted cows

Remember, Pablum's got cow bones in it. And, although none of us believe in hoaxes like pandemics, climate change, or government corruption as long as it's our guy in charge, we do believe in the great Almighty God. He, in his infinite wisdom and love for us, his Chosen Ones, can do anything.

So, if you have room in your bunker for a cow and don't mind its shit being down there with you forever, sprinkle some Pablum on the floor and pray over it daily until God hears you and turns it into a full-grown cow.

Be patient. Have faith. If you don't get a cow, you either did it wrong or you're not loyal enough to the Supreme Leader and God. You're screwed.

If you have any Pablum recipes or life hacks to share, send them over by pigeon or whatever other bird you haven't eaten yet, so we can publish them in our next almanac.

Until we meet again, or not.