I Made Kylie Jenner's Yams and They Were Sexy as Hell

Last night, I was wrist-deep in Kylie Jenner's yams. It was a culinary journey spanning three supermarkets, two kitchens, and a seven-day free trial of Kylie's Kontent Farm™, normally $3 a month. When my editors first approached me about making Kylie Jenner's candied yam recipe -- the first instructional cooking video in what she promises will be a recurring series -- I was a little hesitant. Until I realized I could expense all the ingredients, which meant free dinner.

Human lips, Kylie Jenner, is wearing a blue tie-dyed Yeezy hoodie in a bougie Cali kitchen with her henchwoman/"sous chef" Victoria, who is clearly only there to make K look more stylish/competent. Soft-core porn music pulsates in the background. She claims her yams (which I'll refer to as KJYs, from here on out) are one of her favs. Victoria confirms. 

Victoria is wearing a Metallica T-shirt. When Kylie says her hands are washed, Victoria says, and I quote, "Mine's aren't!" I'm not sure I trust Victoria. 
 

The recipe, which Kylie definitely thought of herself, calls for organic orange juice, organic brown sugar, organic ground cinnamon, organic coconut oil, three small organic yams, marshmallows, and Aunt Jemima's maple syrup. Until the marshmallow part, I was convinced she thought "organic" was just a word that naturally preceded all food names. Kylie's diction is clear, but shows no discernible emotion. Victoria is trying not to move much, but looks happy.

As I live in New York where supermarkets aren't the sprawling warehouses they are in suburbia, I had to go to two organic markets, then another one for the Aunt Jemima's. When I asked the manager at one of the organic places if they had Aunt Jemima's, he went on a Yeezy-style rant about high-fructose syrup being the scourge of the Earth. So, I left.

Once peeled, my yams didn't look anything like the brilliant-orange ones in the video. Were they spray-tanned? Were they edited in post? Do Kardashi-yams just carry that natural glow? She keeps calling them sweet potatoes in the video, and to be fair, I'm not sure I've ever seen a naked yam before, so I decided not to worry about it. Kylie pauses, and muses, "Cooking is very therapeutic." Victoria blindly agrees. 

I cut the yams in half first, sideways, like the shrewd Miss Jenner instructed, then made them into "little half circles." It was, indeed, therapeutic.

Then I, like her, said "screw it," and "drowned my yams" in Aunt Jemima's. My KJYs were finally taking shape. The recipe then calls for a little bit of OJ. Especially weird, because some of the Kardashians may contain a little bit of OJ themselves (allegedly!)

Kylie's voice is defined. Her hand motions are stunning and vaguely Italian. I'm captivated. So is Victoria.

And placed my KJYs inside. I let them sit for 25 minutes, stirred 'em up, then put them in for another 25 minutes. After that, I bedecked that shit with 'mallows, and put it back in for a three-minute melting session. Again, she says they should "look very drowned in syrup." Which they did. 

They were soft, supple, and cloying -- probably because she insisted I drown them in an entire bottle of syrup. Even though the marshmallow topping was, um, kind of disintegrated, my KJYs came out like gangbusters.

Kylie must have known our yams at home wouldn't turn out as aesthetically pleasing as hers, but would still taste delicious, which is what Kylie Jenner is all about: not judging things by their looks, and focusing instead on what's inside. She's great. And so are her yams.

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Wil Fulton is a staff writer for Thrillist. He needs to thank Lou, Luckie, and Pip for use of their oven and the illegal gambling insight that came with it. Follow him: @wilfulton.