Emilie Baltz, author and photographer of the recently-released Junk Foodie: 51 Delicious Recipes for the Lowbrow Gourmand, was born to a French mother and an American father, who opened her eyes to cultural differences in the way we eat, but wouldn’t have let her touch a Dorito with a 10-foot pole.

Baltz came up with the idea for Junk Foodie in her down time at the office, where—when she was finally old enough to make her own dietary decisions—a communal pantry became the inspiration for a plethora of new-found culinary delights. Baltz and her then-interns conducted a series of unofficial experiments, concocting all sorts of artfully-designed—and sometimes even decent-tasting—dishes from soda, candy, chips, snack cakes and other junk food. These creations evolved into the recipes now found in Junk Foodie, which includes treats like Gnocchi a la Pariesienne (made with Handi-Snacks, potato chips and ketchup), Croquembouche a l’Americaine (Twinkies, Marshmallow Fluff, Tootsie Rolls, Whoppers, Jelly Bellies, Starlight Mint Candies, and Wonka Razz Apple Magic Fun Dip) and Baltz’s personal favorite, Twinkie Napoleon (Twinkie and potato chips).

With the holidays quickly approaching, Baltz is also in the process of developing a few Thanksgiving recipes, though she doesn’t have anything down on paper yet. For a turkey substitute, she suggests experimenting with pork rinds, or a combination of potato chips and the doughy parts of Twinkies. “If you mixed that in with some ramen meat seasoning, then you molded it into a turkey shape, that’d probably be pretty close," she says, "And then maybe you take another ramen packet and you can make gravy. And then of course, cranberry sauce—that’s the world of jelly bellies. You can make a whole variety of delicious chutneys that would go with your turkey.” She’s also working on a recipe inspired by her mom’s yam casserole, with potato chips, marshmallow Fluff, Cracker Jacks, and “Payday crumble.”

Baltz says she likes to think of her book as parody of American cuisine. “I think it’s kind of strange that we call this stuff ‘food.’ It arrives sealed in three kinds of packaging, with a picture of a space alien riding a Twinkie on the moon. Like—that’s our definition of ‘food!’”An avid follower of the Michael Pollan school of thought, Baltz says the book is, in part, a tongue-in-cheek attempt at addressing some of the problems presented by the American diet.

“I hope it allows people to start actually laughing at the problem,” says Baltz. “Often I think that this sort of top-down, wag your finger at everything that’s bad in the world, part of sustainability doesn’t leave room for any sort of joy. I think joy is where problems start to actually get solved.”