The way to talk about Tangy Tomato Aspic is to treat it like a band-aid. We have to tear quickly…preferably with our eyes closed.
Deep cleansing breath.
This was the easiest mold to unmold so far. Plop! With a quick dip, it came out pretty quickly….in all it’s shiny, cucumber-y glory (please note that I am wearing a pretty cute apron, supplied by Jill).
The mold was remarkably panic-inducing for such a tiny little dish. 
During the last two months, we have learned quickly that decorating the mold is a must. Naked mold is scary, adorned mold can be deceivingly appetizing. Nothing could help Tangy Tomato Aspic. Olive anyone?
We sliced the mold into four slices, knowing that the fourth would likely end up down the garbage disposal by the end of this day.
Our pretty little plates, what a shame that Tangy Tomato Aspic was on top.
I’m pretty sure Tara’s eyes are pleading not to have to taste this one! Doesn’t she look overwhelmingly excited?
The next moments are a blur of tears, uncontrollable laughter and general madness. My thoughts do not need words, the look on my face speaks for my disgust.
But, since this is a blog, words are necessary. I only have one word. Disgusting. This was one of the most vile things I have ever tasted.
The strange crunchy, tangy acidity of this mold was more than I was prepared for. I was so happy for the bed of salad greens and olives, though I normally detest olives. I had to choke down my bits, but ate most of my slice.
In our manic state, we tried many tricks to try to make it better. Our lovely hostess provided much needed dips and crackers that we decided to use to accompany the mold. Nothing could ever help this. Never make Tangy Tomato Aspic.
Please don’t make me lose faith in you, Betty.
The Moldy Chefs 