There’s something beautiful about the simplicity of a sandworm. You don’t have to worry about its backstory or motivation. You can just enjoy it for being the vibration loving, moisture craving, desert monster it is. (Until God Emperor of Dune. Raise your hands if you know what I’m talking about. Anyone? Duncan Idaho? Bueller?)
You can bring that same hungry simplicity to your own dinner table with this simple recipe for Sandworm Wellington using only pre-made, easy ingredients.
Easy Sandworm Wellington
1 pre-marinated Turkey Tenderloin
1 package Turkey Ham
A few squirts of Dijon Mustard
4 slices Swiss cheese
2 packages crescent rolls
2 oz blanched, sliced almonds
Grab a bagged, pre-marinated turkey tenderloin from your grocer’s meat section. I opted for a Garlic Herb flavor. Pick up whatever you like best.
If you prefer a porky alternative, feel free to substitute a pork tenderloin and some ham for your own home brewed, meaty inception.
Bake your tenderloins according to the package directions.
A normal wellington would be smeared in mustard, coated in a mushroom duxelle, wrapped in refined pork product, then protected from the world with a puff pastry shell. All of that takes time, and after all that effort, for some reason people don’t want the final result to look like it belongs on Arrakis. Therefore, we’re making the quick science fiction version.
A fully baked pork tenderloin should be just the right shape. Turkey tenderloins will be longer and flatter after baking, so if you used one of those cut yours in half. Try to add a little wiggle to help with the sandworm’s body shape.
Whatever kind of meat you used, coat it in a generous layer of Dijojn mustard. Go ahead and use your hands. Really massage it into your sandworm’s flesh.
We’re going to skip the mushroom duxelle and go straight to the dairy. Cut your swiss cheese slices into triangles and lay them on top of your sandworm’s back. It looks so lonely like that. Better cover it up with your ham-like product (whether turkey or pork in origin.)
Now comes the fun part. Open your cans of crescent dough. Pull it into taut strips and start wrapping the dough around the meaty body. Make sure to overlap a lot. The goal here is to create solid ridges. You want them to look deep enough for a Fremen to sink in his hooks and ride this monster all the way to dinner time.
When you’re nearing the mouth of the worm, pause and add the teeth. You’ll want to lay a crescent roll out and press the almonds in a single row along one edge, so they form a piano-like expanse of teeth. Wrap the mouth section around the front. Feel free to let a little turkey ham poke out to represent the great maker’s firey gaping maw.
Now go repeat the whole procedure with your second tenderloin. (They come two to a package. You wouldn’t want to waste something like that. Stilgar would disapprove.)
Arrange the pair on a baking sheet and put them in a 375F oven for 15-18 minutes, or until they’re a dark golden brown.
Your newly minted sandworms will be somewhat fragile. Handle them carefully or else they’ll fall apart on you (though you won’t end up with hundreds of smaller sandworms with a pearl of the originals’ consciousness. You’ll just end up with a mess.)
If you’re extra clever, you’ll arrange them on a bed of brown rice sprinkled with brown sugar. I opted for what I shall call the Chapterhouse Dune solution by surrounding them with greenery. Look at those teeth. They’re clearly not happy with all this unnatural moisture invading their territory.
You’re welcome to serve your sandworms whole or cut them into artistic, sushi-like slices. If you do, make sure to present them with the heads and tails sticking straight up for extra effect.