That was a fun read. I know, the experiences you were relating were not “in the moment” fun. But you write to delight. And now I can look beyond kitchen fails to the lessons they contain. And I will forever consider the possibility of a partial shebang.
Glad you enjoyed it, Stewart, and I'm sure - with all the household guests and gatherings you've been part of over the years - you've seen your share of kitchen disasters, partial or otherwise. Half-shebang is definitely going to find its way into more of my conversations in the future.
I could not even imagine anything that I cooked would compare with any example that you gave today... For however long it took me to read your words, that is how long I laughed... At least for me today,...you blessed my stress....
Burnt chestnuts and pulped lettuce are pretty easy to replicate, Barry. I would happily provide lessons, if you'd like! Good to know this week's essay gave you a lift, but I'm sorry for the stress.
Great piece. Love it! Julia's clip is precious. And my share is one of my own best kitchen failures when, as a young bride and recently arrived as an immigrant, I decided that I could try to cook or at least follow a recipe - coq au vin, the latest rage at the time. It smelled great, looked golden juicy and tasted like weird yuk. Instead of one cup of white wine I had poured in one cup of white wine vinegar. Well, no one had told me they did not sell alcohol in supermarkets...in those days, and it did have the word wine on the label - I checked. (Glad you opened up comments!)
Seriously, Erica, food labels are the worst! While I often add a splash of vinegar to brighten up soups and stews, a full cup in coq au vin would definitely render a different flavor than you were aiming for. Great story! Thanks for sharing.
Worst cooking fiasco? In my early 20’s my GF and I were celebrating Thanksgiving with champagne while preparing dinner and actually turning on the oven to roast the turkey somehow slipped our minds. We had to try microwaving it. What a disaster! But we didn’t care that much by that point. 🤣
Microwaved turkey?! If you could sort that one out, you could retire. Oh wait...that's right...! ;) I believe Julia would have approved of your method of making the best of that situation. Appreciate you jumping in here.
I grew up in the parsimonious New England tradition that measures spices in fractional teaspoons. A quarter-teaspoon of paprika is not going to change the taste of a large dish, but look how much we saved! Small wonder that my parents and grandparents had spices in tins that were already antique when I learned to read...
So I spent my 20s learning to cook with real amounts of flavor -- we lived in Tallahassee at the time, so I got to draw from strong Cajun influences to the west and Caribbean influences from the Florida peninsula as well as Southern cooking. Many of my favorite chefs, like Paul Prudhomme and Steven Raichlen, taught me to amp the flavor by amping the spices -- and to start dishes with a spicy roux instead of sprinkling a tiny bit of spice atop a finished dish.
I learned the hard way that some spices -- say, Chinese 5-spice -- probably should, in fact, be used in small amounts. After tossing a liberal handful of of 5-spice into a dish, we decided it was inedible. My wife dubbed it "licorice-lime pork," and to this day it stands as both a running joke and a cautionary tale. It's become a verb, as in, "Don't licorice-lime pork that dish!"
The lexicon of food fails! Licorice-lime pork sounds promising under the right circumstances. You might want to revisit. So good to hear from you, Greg (and Ann)! And, I loved learning something new about you after all these years.
Years ago I was making Florentine cookies at home and found I had extra melted chocolate. Not wanting to waste it, I decided to try something a friend who published cookbooks in her spare time had recommended for leftover chocolate. She said to blow up a balloon and use the chocolate to "paint" a basket on it. Once dry and with the balloon popped, the basket could be used to hold strawberries or candies.
I was hurrying to take a toddler to the doctor later that morning, but I was pleased with my creation right up to the final swipe of the brush. Apparently that swipe was just too hot for the balloon, which blew up in my face and sent painfully hot chocolate shooting all over my white kitchen. I didn't have time to do more than simply wipe the most obvious chocolate off my face and hands and change my shirt before I had to take my son (who, thankfully had been playing in the room next door) for his appointment. Downtown we went, my face and arms still covered with splotchy red spots from the burning hot chocolate.
Even four years later, when we were doing a deep clean in preparation to sell this house, I was still finding small chocolate splotches in the most unlikely places in the kitchen. Needless to say, I have never tried making a chocolate basket again!
Omigosh, Jeannie -- how awful! I'm glad no one was seriously injured. Like you, I would be totally fine without needing to revisit that project again. Probably kind of funny to find chocolate residue in the oddest of places all those years later, in a PTSD kind of way. Thanks for sharing!
Just lots of little first degree burns, luckily! Cleaning the kitchen in the immediate aftermath was a nightmare - the ceiling fan was near ground zero, and those aren't easy to clean under the best of circumstances much less an hour or two after a chocolate explosion - but finding chocolate on top of high kitchen cupboards four years later - so funny!
That was a fun read. I know, the experiences you were relating were not “in the moment” fun. But you write to delight. And now I can look beyond kitchen fails to the lessons they contain. And I will forever consider the possibility of a partial shebang.
Glad you enjoyed it, Stewart, and I'm sure - with all the household guests and gatherings you've been part of over the years - you've seen your share of kitchen disasters, partial or otherwise. Half-shebang is definitely going to find its way into more of my conversations in the future.
I could not even imagine anything that I cooked would compare with any example that you gave today... For however long it took me to read your words, that is how long I laughed... At least for me today,...you blessed my stress....
Burnt chestnuts and pulped lettuce are pretty easy to replicate, Barry. I would happily provide lessons, if you'd like! Good to know this week's essay gave you a lift, but I'm sorry for the stress.
Great piece. Love it! Julia's clip is precious. And my share is one of my own best kitchen failures when, as a young bride and recently arrived as an immigrant, I decided that I could try to cook or at least follow a recipe - coq au vin, the latest rage at the time. It smelled great, looked golden juicy and tasted like weird yuk. Instead of one cup of white wine I had poured in one cup of white wine vinegar. Well, no one had told me they did not sell alcohol in supermarkets...in those days, and it did have the word wine on the label - I checked. (Glad you opened up comments!)
Seriously, Erica, food labels are the worst! While I often add a splash of vinegar to brighten up soups and stews, a full cup in coq au vin would definitely render a different flavor than you were aiming for. Great story! Thanks for sharing.
Worst cooking fiasco? In my early 20’s my GF and I were celebrating Thanksgiving with champagne while preparing dinner and actually turning on the oven to roast the turkey somehow slipped our minds. We had to try microwaving it. What a disaster! But we didn’t care that much by that point. 🤣
Microwaved turkey?! If you could sort that one out, you could retire. Oh wait...that's right...! ;) I believe Julia would have approved of your method of making the best of that situation. Appreciate you jumping in here.
I grew up in the parsimonious New England tradition that measures spices in fractional teaspoons. A quarter-teaspoon of paprika is not going to change the taste of a large dish, but look how much we saved! Small wonder that my parents and grandparents had spices in tins that were already antique when I learned to read...
So I spent my 20s learning to cook with real amounts of flavor -- we lived in Tallahassee at the time, so I got to draw from strong Cajun influences to the west and Caribbean influences from the Florida peninsula as well as Southern cooking. Many of my favorite chefs, like Paul Prudhomme and Steven Raichlen, taught me to amp the flavor by amping the spices -- and to start dishes with a spicy roux instead of sprinkling a tiny bit of spice atop a finished dish.
I learned the hard way that some spices -- say, Chinese 5-spice -- probably should, in fact, be used in small amounts. After tossing a liberal handful of of 5-spice into a dish, we decided it was inedible. My wife dubbed it "licorice-lime pork," and to this day it stands as both a running joke and a cautionary tale. It's become a verb, as in, "Don't licorice-lime pork that dish!"
The lexicon of food fails! Licorice-lime pork sounds promising under the right circumstances. You might want to revisit. So good to hear from you, Greg (and Ann)! And, I loved learning something new about you after all these years.
Years ago I was making Florentine cookies at home and found I had extra melted chocolate. Not wanting to waste it, I decided to try something a friend who published cookbooks in her spare time had recommended for leftover chocolate. She said to blow up a balloon and use the chocolate to "paint" a basket on it. Once dry and with the balloon popped, the basket could be used to hold strawberries or candies.
I was hurrying to take a toddler to the doctor later that morning, but I was pleased with my creation right up to the final swipe of the brush. Apparently that swipe was just too hot for the balloon, which blew up in my face and sent painfully hot chocolate shooting all over my white kitchen. I didn't have time to do more than simply wipe the most obvious chocolate off my face and hands and change my shirt before I had to take my son (who, thankfully had been playing in the room next door) for his appointment. Downtown we went, my face and arms still covered with splotchy red spots from the burning hot chocolate.
Even four years later, when we were doing a deep clean in preparation to sell this house, I was still finding small chocolate splotches in the most unlikely places in the kitchen. Needless to say, I have never tried making a chocolate basket again!
Omigosh, Jeannie -- how awful! I'm glad no one was seriously injured. Like you, I would be totally fine without needing to revisit that project again. Probably kind of funny to find chocolate residue in the oddest of places all those years later, in a PTSD kind of way. Thanks for sharing!
Just lots of little first degree burns, luckily! Cleaning the kitchen in the immediate aftermath was a nightmare - the ceiling fan was near ground zero, and those aren't easy to clean under the best of circumstances much less an hour or two after a chocolate explosion - but finding chocolate on top of high kitchen cupboards four years later - so funny!
"Just lots of first degree burns..." Oof!! And, that wayward chocolate...like finding Christmas tree needles on the windowsill in July. :)