I’m planning to make one of the creepy recipes from “The Curious Creations of Christine McConnell” — a hybrid baking/crafting/“Tales From the Crypt”-type show that launched on Netflix this month. And I’m confident I’ll have it done in time for Halloween — Halloween, 2019, that is.

McConnell’s horrifying edibles cannot be whipped up easily. She uses ingredients I’ve never heard of, like piping gel to add a moist patina to sinister eyeballs, and miniature sculpting tools to add pit marks to human bones (which are really pretzel sticks wrapped in peanut-butter dough and dipped in white chocolate).

Each roughly 25-minute episode has a plot of sorts, and three or four baking and crafting demos. Resembling Snow White with her raven hair and pale skin, McConnell issues instructions like Martha Stewart — clipped and authoritarian — never cracking a smile at the absurdity of it all. “Build up folds of skin around the eye to increase the menace,” she says of one recipe.

In real life, McConnell is a quadruple threat — baker/designer/model/actress. She rocketed to fame on Instagram. “The show will be almost a dream version of myself,” she told MyRecipes of the Netflix venture.

Actually, it’s more of a nightmare version. McConnell’s TV character lives in a seemingly haunted house with the formerly dead raccoon Rose and a mummified Egyptian cat named Rankle, both of whom she reanimated.

The animal puppets come from the Henson Alternative, overseen by Jim Henson’s son, Brian. The lusty Rose, who wears a perky bow and a demented stare, appears to have had a nonconsensual relationship with a nosy old neighbor’s garden gnome, then decides to kill the gentleman.

In case you haven’t guessed, this is not a show for innocent little children.

So who is the show aimed at? People who like elaborate dessert recipes (and have always wanted to fashion a shiv out of a melted peppermint stick); people who are fans of the Addams family and all things gothic; and people who have no moral code, yet still believe in etiquette.

Upon uncovering the intended victim in her basement, McConnell joins in the raccoon’s plot to off the neighbor but then calls it off. “I’m sorry for … the attempted murder,” she apologizes, before deciding she will instead kill the man with kindness. Her nasty cat complains, “That takes so long.”

To which I can only respond, “Mwah, hah, hah.”