A Cookbook For WNBA Trolls

Critics of the league love to tell players to ‘go back to the kitchen’. Since these trolls are such foodies, we decided to make them their own cookbook.

Have you heard the one about how women belong in the kitchen?

You haven’t? Well then, have I got a joke for you. It goes something like this:

Women belong in the kitchen.

Get it?

It’s funny because the kitchen is their rightful place, cooking for us men. While they handle all those girly domestic responsibilities, we’re free to go out into the world and do manly things, like getting chewed out by our minimum-wage supervisor Jerry, who didn’t think we answered the phone jovially enough. You know, the kind of shit Clint Eastwood makes movies about.

If the kitchen joke went over your head, you’re clearly not tapped into the current humour zeitgeist. The joke has experienced a renaissance over the past five years, going from cigar clubs to anonymous message boards to eventually, Twitter. It’s so timely and relevant, internet men bust it out with a Pavlovian level of frequency — every time women do things manly men believe only men should do — a list that varies almost hourly.

There’s one time, though, when the kitchen commentary comes out without fail — anytime someone mentions the WNBA.

These might seem like sexist attacks by men with fragile egos, but I have a different theory. Maybe these aren’t jokes or attacks. Maybe they’re cries for help. Maybe these men aren’t exhibiting misogyny, but desperation. As full-time keyboard crusaders, there’s a good chance they don’t actually know how a kitchen works or how to prepare food for themselves. They’re obsessed with telling professional athletes to go back to the kitchen because they need someone — anyone — to make them food, lest they die of starvation. They’re not trolls; they’re bums.

Luckily, I’m here to help. Based on what I imagine their cooking comprehension to be, I’ve compiled a cookbook specifically designed for WNBA trolls. What follows is a collection of recipes specially curated for their tastes and talents. The hope is, once they master these techniques, they’ll finally be in a place where they can put these comments to rest.

The Iso Man-Ifesto: A Cookbook for WNBA Trolls

Parents’ Basement Paninis

Serving size: You. Only you. You’ll be alone forever.

Cook time: One episode of something “dope and not PC,” likely found on Barstool.


  • Eight slices of Wonder Bread
  • One jar of Cheez Whiz
  • Eight slices of the least foreign-sounding packaged meat you could find at the 7-Eleven.


  1. Clear cooking surface of all backdated issues of the Sports Illustrated swimsuit edition.
  2. Set hot plate to high.
  3. Drizzle a small amount of Mountain Dew on the cooking surface, until the plate is well-coated. When the Dew starts to sizzle, turn down the heat to low.
  4. Place all eight slices of Wonder Bread on the plate at once.
  5. When the bread starts to brown, flip it onto the other side. (If you’re unsure of how brown it should be, time your flip for when El Presidente says something crude and hateful towards women. You’ll know it’s crude because he’ll then invite a female employee into the room, and mansplain to her why she shouldn’t be offended by his crudeness).
  6. Place deli meat onto four of the slices. Lather a healthy amount of Cheez Whiz on top of meat. Place other four slices of bread on top. Press together and flip.
  7. Remove the paninis from the hot plate before eating. Enjoy.

Basketball IQ-Less Quesadillas

Serving size: Can be split between two meals if you plan to take a nap after pretending to job hunt. Enough for one meal if you want to take your nap before.

Cook time: Long enough to scrub a WNBA game, screen-grab a GIF of a broken play, post it on Twitter and grin in your confirmation bias, completely ignoring that nagging voice asking whether a person who has Buddy Hield in their Twitter Avatar is really qualified to question the professional merits of a basketball league.


  • ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter’
  • Four flour tortillas
  • One jar of Cheez Whiz (It’s multi-purpose!)
  • Mayonnaise


  1. Scrape the top layer of mildew off the ‘I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter’.
  2. Lather bottom of tortilla with ‘Can’t Believe’, and place ‘Can’t Believe’ side on a heated saucepan. Spread Cheez Whiz on top, and then place other tortilla on top, Can’t Believe side up.
  3. Cook for 1–2 minutes on each side.
  4. Remove from heat. Dip in mayonnaise for flavoring.

Toxic MAC-uli-N’ Cheese

Serving size: Enough for one mid-sized incel group, or one above mid-sized incel.

Cook time: 10 minutes.


  • Macaroni elbows
  • Saucepan
  • Milk
  • Margarine
  • Cheese Sauce Mix
  1. Scrape the bottom of the saucepan of any residual food.
  2. Bring water to boil in the saucepan.
  3. Add macaroni; cook 7 to 8 minutes or until soft.
  4. Drain. Return macaroni to pan.
  5. Add margarine, milk and Cheese Sauce Mix; mix well.

Spineless Chicken Wings

Serving size: Each box contains 10 wings. 7.8 if you’re a woman.

Cook time: Long enough to masturbate to some aspirational porn, take a short break, and go for a second round with something ‘edgier’. My guess is something ethnic.


  • One box of store-bought chicken wings
  • One toaster oven.
  1. Set toaster oven to high.
  2. Open box of wings and, this is crucial, remove the wings from the plastic wrapper.
  3. Open sauce pouch and pour sauce over the wings. If your fingers are exhausted from all the Twitter savaging you’ve been doing lately (and thus are unable to open the package) simply rub the wings in whatever leftover sauce is currently on your shirt.
  4. Place wings on a tray and set the timer to 25 minutes. No need to stop and flip them, we’re not running a Parisian Cafe here.
  5. Remove wings from oven. Enjoy.


‘I Could Take Her’ Apple Turnovers

Cook time: 9–12 minutes, or just long enough to pretend to look for the pair of New Balance shoes you bought seven years ago when you swore you’d finally lose the gut and play some casual pick-up basketball again.


  • One box of Pillsbury Apple Flaky Turnovers
  • One heating device (like an oven)
  • An inflated sense of athletic ability.


  1. Heat oven to 375 degrees Fahrenheit.
  2. Remove pastries from box. Unroll dough and separate into six squares.
  3. Clip the corners of the fruit filling pouch, and fill the dough with fruit filling.
  4. Go on 4chan and make a joke about how all the dudes there would kill for some of your fruit filling, and laugh to yourself about their suggested homoerotic tendencies, while secretly yearning for the touch of another human.
  5. Fold dough over filling, bringing edges together to form triangles. Seal tip. Bake 9 to 12 minutes or until golden brown. Clip small corner of icing packet and drizzle over hot turnovers.

‘Why Don’t They Dunk-a-Roos’

Serving size: Depends on the expiration date. If it’s 2009 or earlier, I recommend no more than four packets in one sitting.

Preparation time: The time it’ll take for you to open the packaging, figure out which side is cookie and which is frosting, and coordinate your fingers to successfully dunk and bring the frosted cookie to your mouth.

Best set aside an entire day, just in case.

Dan Szczepanek is the editor-in-chief of Grandstand Central. You can connect with/shout at him here.