Another Culinary Catastrophe

It happened again.

Another culinary catastrophe.

Great idea. Great recipe. Great intentions. But not enough time to do it justice. And then there was the accident.

Here's what happened....

My friend Lorraine over at The Copywriters' Kitchen posted an excellent recipe for Chicken Teriyaki. After reading her post, I couldn't stop thinking about that dish. I HAD to make it last night.

Of course, making this particular dish would necessitate a trip to the grocery. No problem. I could stop by on my way home after school. The recipe was simple enough and I should have plenty of time to get it on and have it ready for dinner.

Well, you know me... I can't follow a recipe verbatim. I always change things up. And for this recipe I planned to prepare it in a crock pot. See, we had the final Mass last night for the kids' PSR (Parish School of Religion - sometimes known as CCD). I figured I could get everything in the pot and let it cook for about 4 hours, so that it would be ready once we got home around 8.

I am terrible with time. No sense of it at all. So, the grocery took longer than I thought. Getting everything in the crock pot took longer than I thought. And I didn't have time to put the rice on before leaving for church. We use brown rice, so it takes a good 45 minutes to cook.

As I sat in Mass, a fear began to gnaw at me: it's not going to be ready. It's not going to be ready and everybody is starving... and Char will be upset because we will have another late night. I felt the darkness closing in.

But then... a ray of hope! I had an idea. I would go home, transfer the Chicken Teriyaki to an All-Clad pot and rev up the stove. Surely it will be done by the time the rice is ready. And another ray of hope - Mass ended 45 minutes earlier than I thought it would. Perfect! The day is saved, I thought.

But the day wasn't saved.

We got home. I put the rice on. I revved up the stove. Put the All-Clad pot in the sink so that it would be easier to pour the contents of the crock pot into it. I began the transfer. Everything went well until I went to set the crock pot down on the edge of the sink. I guess I set it down too hard. It cracked into about 5 pieces! I felt so disappointed... awful.

I checked and I didn't see any crock pot particles in the food, so I put it on the stove. And, voila! In 45 minutes we were ready to eat! And it was delicious!

Now, I was upset about the crock pot. I had pulled it out of the pantry a few days earlier, and I was planning to use it frequently over the next few weeks.

Not any more. Bummer.

And guess what else... There were crock pot fragments in the food. I chomped down on a goodly-sized piece. Checked the pot again. Sure enough, I found more pieces. Now I was angry. I am sure there were tiny pieces, or flakes, that we ate. I am not happy about that. More disappointment.

Lorraine, it tasted great! I love the recipe and I will make it again. But next time I will follow your recipe to a T.

If you have been reading, or listening to, The Catholic Foodie for while, you may remember that I posted a culinary catastrophe before. I called it The Spud Dud. You may want to check that one out too. It shows how terrible I can be in the kitchen.

Do you have a culinary catastrophe story you would like to share? Leave a comment here.

Are You Like Me?

I love to cook. Some people garden to "get away from it all" and relax. For me, it's the kitchen, not the garden. The kitchen is a magical place where my troubles recede and the joy of cooking and living takes center stage. If it was up to me, I would spend the majority of the day in the kitchen. But I know that most people are not like me.

I like to take my time cooking. I tend to take the scenic route. Sometimes that unnerves my family. The kids are impatient and Char would like to eat early. I'm a night owl and I like to eat late. Try as I might, I can't seem to speed things up.

When I bake bread, I knead by hand. When I cook a gumbo, I chop the onions, bell peppers, and celery with care and attention. And, of course, the roux takes a good 35 minutes.

No one taught me how to cook. I taught myself with practice. When I was in the seminary in Mexico, I was put in charge of a cooking team that rotated weekends with three other teams: the Italians, the French, and the Mexicans. Why? Because I was from Louisiana and, surely, I must have been a culinary sophisticate. True, I excelled in the kitchen, and I often joined in on the other weekends... just because. And I learned.

Everything about the kitchen fascinates me. The tools and gadgets, the pots and pans, the cutting boards and wooden salad bowl, my wooden spoons... and my mortar and pestle. I have a particular love for my mortar and pestle. Wood. Darkened by olive oil and years of beating garlic.

And then there are the smells. The feel of the food in my hands. I become an alchemist in the kitchen, striving to make the magic with simple ingredients. Eating is secondary. Lagniappe. A bonus.

What about eating? The dinner table is another matter for another post. But, after cooking, eating is not that important. Meals with the family and seeing them enjoy my creation... that is the fulfillment, the culmination of the process.

Yes, I love to cook.

How about you?

[This post was inspired by a post on The Copywriters' Kitchen. Check out Lorraine's post - 10 Good Reasons to Start Cooking From Scratch.]