KITCHEN DISASTERS ~ BFF 176

 

Usually, I type lies… Well, that is what I call my fiction stories. Just allow me my little humor… OK? Any who… This story is a true story and I am the star character. That said ~ let me allow a peek into my ditzy world…

It was 1968 and I was newlywed. It was the year that one of my kitchen disasters became legend…

The kitchen was no strange place for me because it seemed that I had already been in the kitchen most of my life. As a small child, my Mom let me “help” bake cookies. Between us, she mixed, rolled the dough (with my help, of course), I cut, she baked and I ate cookies warm from the oven. Cakes were a little trickier, so Mom did most of it, but I always, with the assistance of my two sisters, helped clean the beaters and bowl…

My Mom was a wonderful cook and I was her most attentive fan. I watched everything my Mom did in the kitchen. By the age of 10, with Mom’s supervision, I was able to follow recipes, including the ability to measure correctly, whether dry, liquid or Crisco… By the age of 12, I was allowed free reign in the kitchen with only one rule…”Clean the kitchen when done”. My Dad LOVED the treats so lovingly baked by his oldest daughter.

I had no real interest in preparing a meal until I was about 14. Desserts were my specialty. One day, my parents were on a fishing trip and I decided that I would surprise them with a full course dinner. (Excuse me a minute while I get all this mirth out… hahahahaha… OK…back to the story). I pulled a nice beef roast from the freezer, then ran water on it to thaw. (SHUT UP!!! I WAS A MERE CHILD!!!) Well, we all know how that worked out. When about 1/8^th inch depth was thawed, I decided to get started because I didn’t want dinner to be late and I was excited to show my parents that I could cook a complete meal. It would, after all, thaw in the pot. Right? So, I browned that frozen roast, then covered it in water. I just knew that I needed to boil it to both thaw and cook tender. (Yeah…more mirth…it’s good for my soul… SHUT UP! HAHAHA) Next, I peeled potatoes. Nice thin peels, just like Mom. I set them to boil in another pot. The veggie was easy…just opened a can. That is the one and only thing that my Mom did that I do not allow in my kitchen. No canned veggies for me!!! But, in Mom’s defense, she was a stay at home Mom and the budget was tight, so canned veggies it was. Ugh! I didn’t know any better because that is all I knew…then…

Well, back to the story… The potatoes were fluffy and perfectly mashed. I put a pinch of celery leaves here and there for appeal. The canned veggies were….well….canned veggies. Blah! The roast was on a platter, also decorated with sprigs of celery leaves while I whipped up the gravy. Homemade biscuits were arranged beautifully in the bread basket. All in all, the dinner looked delicious! And it was…except for that troublesome roast. It was like chewing leather. My Dad cut small pieces and complimented the cook. (He was such a great Dad!) My Mom was doing her best to encourage me that it wasn’t that bad, but I knew it was and I was sooo upset. Well, Mom was able to salvage that roast by returning to the pot, while explaining to me how to cook a perfect roast. THAT was my first kitchen disaster.

Back to 1968… My new husband was very pleased with my cooking prowess. He was so pleased that he invited more than 20 people to our first Thanksgiving dinner. Luckily, Mom cooked like she was going to feed a small army and I learned the same, so we had plenty for all. Shortly after Thanksgiving, he decided that he would invite his boss and his wife for dinner. He always did the inviting, and then told me after he had invited. Since it was his boss, he asked that I prepare something special. I poured over my cookbooks for just the perfect recipe. Ah ha! I found a recipe that looked fancy and was sure to impress. I went to work, following the recipe to a T. The recipe called for ground ham, which I promptly ground with my trusty old meat grinder. (Which I still have, BTW…)

I happily added the other ingredients, mixed well and put the mixture in a loaf pan to bake. I got the first hint that something wasn’t going as I planned when a familiar smell filled the kitchen. But, I continued to hope that I was wrong as I prepared the potatoes, gravy, biscuits and veggie dish. Finally, dinner was ready so I invited my husband and company to come to the dinner table. One bite of the meat dish confirmed all of my fears…I had prepared a giant SPAM!!! I was mortified. My husband and company were polite…that’s all… And, I have never lived down the fact that I made homemade SPAM for a fancy dinner… In fact, it is LEGEND… Nothing like candles, fine china and SPAM! LOL

Speaking of legend… I have one more. Hee hee… An intentional legend, if you will. My husband’s habit of inviting people to dinner began to get under my skin when his brothers began visiting around dinner time almost daily. One time, the guys were all in the backyard building a boat. My husband came into the house to ask me to fix enough lunch for all of them. By that time, I was pretty darned fed up with being the order chef, so I smiled sweetly until he returned to the backyard. Then I “prepared” lunch. I opened a can of pork ‘n beans and dumped it into a saucepan.  I sliced a couple of hot dogs into the beans, warmed and then called them in for dinner. I guess the look on my face must have warned them all that they better just shut up and eat it. And none of them said a single word except Mmmmm. LOL…my beans ‘n hotdog lunch for company is also legend…

Those were not my only kitchen disasters… There have been plenty. In fact, I had one just a couple of weeks ago that we shall not discuss unless it becomes legend…