Setting: I'm in the kitchen loading the dishwasher before cooking dinner. Enter Oldest Child.
Oldest Child, staring at package of ground turkey: "What's for dinner?"
Me: "Worms."
OC: "MOM!"
Me: "What?"
OC: "That's gross! No, really, what's for dinner?"
Me: "Worms."
OC: "Stop it. Tell me, what's for dinner?"
Me: "What do you think?"
OC: "Um, tacos?"
Me: "Tacos, or picadillo. Which do you prefer?"
OC: "Um, picadillo."
Me: "Okay, worms it is!" :::cackle maniacally:::
OC: "Ew, I feel sick now." :::sulks away:::
Showing posts with label Cooking Catastrophes. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cooking Catastrophes. Show all posts
Thursday, August 26, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Supper in a Dish
Oy, I've been away a long while!
All of a sudden, I'm inspired to return to my blog and share with you some household disasters, or potential disasters if they were to be fulfilled. Let's start with this cookbook, "The Ultimate Cooking with 4 Ingredients" (from which I will not cook, soon you will see why).
At first I thought this book could really have potential in my kitchen. I'm often thwarted from cooking gourmet meals that impress my family and make me the envy of my friends because of my limited pantry space (well, usually I just want to fix something quick and edible).
Instead of feeling inspired, I found myself reliving the horror of the church potluck picnics of my childhood upon flipping through this book. The recipes seem to be compiled from 1970s women's magazines -- odd combinations of cubed ham, seasoning packets, cans of cream soups and an occasional bag of frozen vegetables.
For example:
Smothered Steak: 1 large round steak; 1 can golden mushroom soup; 1 envelope dry onion soup mix; 2/3 cup milk.
or Chicken Broccoli Skillet: 3 cups cubed, cooked chicken; 1 package frozen broccoli florets; 1 package Velveeta cheese, cubed; 2/3 cup mayonnaise.
or Tuna Toast... oh never mind.
I did catch them cheating on the four-ingredient rule:
Curried Red Snapper: 1 1/2 pounds fresh red snapper; 2 medium onions, chopped; 2 celery ribs; chopped; 1 teaspoon curry powder; 1/4 cup milk. A-HA! FIVE ingredients!
There were other cheating recipes, and some real doozy desserts, but I'll spare you the gory details.
Lastly, the recipe that made me throw up a little in my mouth:
Supper in a Dish: 2 bags instant rice in a bag; 1 1/2 cups cubed, cooked ham; 1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese; 1 can green peas. Sounds wonderful, super easy and perfect for busy weeknights... NOT!
If you're planning a 70s Throwback-Potluck-Barbeque, this is the perfect cookbook for you! Want it?
All of a sudden, I'm inspired to return to my blog and share with you some household disasters, or potential disasters if they were to be fulfilled. Let's start with this cookbook, "The Ultimate Cooking with 4 Ingredients" (from which I will not cook, soon you will see why).
At first I thought this book could really have potential in my kitchen. I'm often thwarted from cooking gourmet meals that impress my family and make me the envy of my friends because of my limited pantry space (well, usually I just want to fix something quick and edible).
Instead of feeling inspired, I found myself reliving the horror of the church potluck picnics of my childhood upon flipping through this book. The recipes seem to be compiled from 1970s women's magazines -- odd combinations of cubed ham, seasoning packets, cans of cream soups and an occasional bag of frozen vegetables.
For example:
Smothered Steak: 1 large round steak; 1 can golden mushroom soup; 1 envelope dry onion soup mix; 2/3 cup milk.
or Chicken Broccoli Skillet: 3 cups cubed, cooked chicken; 1 package frozen broccoli florets; 1 package Velveeta cheese, cubed; 2/3 cup mayonnaise.
or Tuna Toast... oh never mind.
I did catch them cheating on the four-ingredient rule:
Curried Red Snapper: 1 1/2 pounds fresh red snapper; 2 medium onions, chopped; 2 celery ribs; chopped; 1 teaspoon curry powder; 1/4 cup milk. A-HA! FIVE ingredients!
There were other cheating recipes, and some real doozy desserts, but I'll spare you the gory details.
Lastly, the recipe that made me throw up a little in my mouth:
Supper in a Dish: 2 bags instant rice in a bag; 1 1/2 cups cubed, cooked ham; 1 1/2 cups shredded cheddar cheese; 1 can green peas. Sounds wonderful, super easy and perfect for busy weeknights... NOT!
If you're planning a 70s Throwback-Potluck-Barbeque, this is the perfect cookbook for you! Want it?
Monday, July 28, 2008
Hot Sauce
A quick story... so you know that my kitchen is jinxed, because I am not the only perpetrator of foibles here.
A beloved family member who is staying with us was cooking dinner while I was feeding the baby. After the baby was done, I went to serve dinner to the kids -- spaghetti with meat sauce, their favorite. It looked odd, but I didn't think anything of it, because I trust her cooking.
A moment after diving into the spaghetti, M commented, "This is hot." E started waving her hand wildly at her face and motioning for something to drink. I was looking at the sauce in the pot, confused. Why did she put peppers in it? Are those... jalapeno seeds?
Then it dawned on me. She didn't use the jar of spaghetti sauce I bought the other day. I peeked into the recycling bin.
There was an empty jar of Pace Picante Sauce at the bottom of the bin I had just emptied this morning.
After I picked myself up off the floor and found my breath from laughing hysterically, I served the girls plain noodles and put aside the meat sauce. Needless to say, we're having tacos tomorrow.
A beloved family member who is staying with us was cooking dinner while I was feeding the baby. After the baby was done, I went to serve dinner to the kids -- spaghetti with meat sauce, their favorite. It looked odd, but I didn't think anything of it, because I trust her cooking.
A moment after diving into the spaghetti, M commented, "This is hot." E started waving her hand wildly at her face and motioning for something to drink. I was looking at the sauce in the pot, confused. Why did she put peppers in it? Are those... jalapeno seeds?
Then it dawned on me. She didn't use the jar of spaghetti sauce I bought the other day. I peeked into the recycling bin.
There was an empty jar of Pace Picante Sauce at the bottom of the bin I had just emptied this morning.
After I picked myself up off the floor and found my breath from laughing hysterically, I served the girls plain noodles and put aside the meat sauce. Needless to say, we're having tacos tomorrow.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Food Processor Lesson #642
Very important to remember: when incorporating liquid to a mixture in the food processor, add the liquid last, not first. For example, when chopping up frozen berries for sorbet, it is best to process down the berries first then add in the water slowly. Filling the processor bowl with two cups of water and one cup of frozen mixed berries, then turning it on, will result in pink water spewing out of every crack of the food processor all over the machine, kitchen counter and your clothes.
Better yet, for this type of recipe, use the blender.
In thanks for reading this blog, I will share the recipe that taught me this lesson, created by yours truly.
Lemon-Berry Sorbet
Created by Your Incompetent Hostess
1 1/2 cups water
1 cup lemonade concentrate
1 cup frozen mixed berries
1/2 cup sugar
Combine berries with lemonade concentrate in food processor or blender. Chop until smooth. Slowly add in water and sugar. Transfer mixture to ice cream maker. Turn on ice cream maker, for about 25 minutes until mixture is frozen to consistency of soft-serve. Eat immediately. Delicious with a little vodka mixed in at a "Girls' Night In" party (as I was told).
Better yet, for this type of recipe, use the blender.
In thanks for reading this blog, I will share the recipe that taught me this lesson, created by yours truly.
Lemon-Berry Sorbet
Created by Your Incompetent Hostess
1 1/2 cups water
1 cup lemonade concentrate
1 cup frozen mixed berries
1/2 cup sugar
Combine berries with lemonade concentrate in food processor or blender. Chop until smooth. Slowly add in water and sugar. Transfer mixture to ice cream maker. Turn on ice cream maker, for about 25 minutes until mixture is frozen to consistency of soft-serve. Eat immediately. Delicious with a little vodka mixed in at a "Girls' Night In" party (as I was told).
Saturday, January 12, 2008
All-Day Bread
A new recipe I perfected this week:
Around 9 am, take an excellent recipe like this one for Oatmeal Sandwich Bread. Load all the ingredients in the bread machine pan (don't leave anything out! whew!). Place the bread machine pan in the bread machine. Set the bread machine cycle to "Dough."
About an hour later, wonder how the bread is doing. Run back to the kitchen and look in the bread machine to find a bubbling mass and notice that you did not yet turn the machine on. Turn machine on.
When the buzzer sounds the end of the rising cycle, open the cover and notice that the bread didn't rise. Warm the oven slightly, place the dough in a bread pan, put the pan in the warm oven and cross your fingers.
Entertain a friend who has stopped by while your dough hangs out in the pan for an extra long period of time in the oven, not rising. Just before the end of the rising time, get ready to leave the house. Ask friend how to rescue this poor loaf that now needs to bake but can't start yet because you have to go pick up a child from school and can't leave the house with the oven on. Friend advises putting the bread outside where it is chilly so that the yeast growth is arrested. Follow her advice and go pick up child.
When arriving back at the house, surmise that you can warm it back up and maybe help it rise a little more by putting back in a warm oven. After another 30 minutes in warm oven, give up and bake the bread according to the original instructions. By dinnertime, remove bread from oven and present it to family as Dense Oatmeal Toasting Loaf for breakfast the next morning.
Around 9 am, take an excellent recipe like this one for Oatmeal Sandwich Bread. Load all the ingredients in the bread machine pan (don't leave anything out! whew!). Place the bread machine pan in the bread machine. Set the bread machine cycle to "Dough."
About an hour later, wonder how the bread is doing. Run back to the kitchen and look in the bread machine to find a bubbling mass and notice that you did not yet turn the machine on. Turn machine on.
When the buzzer sounds the end of the rising cycle, open the cover and notice that the bread didn't rise. Warm the oven slightly, place the dough in a bread pan, put the pan in the warm oven and cross your fingers.
Entertain a friend who has stopped by while your dough hangs out in the pan for an extra long period of time in the oven, not rising. Just before the end of the rising time, get ready to leave the house. Ask friend how to rescue this poor loaf that now needs to bake but can't start yet because you have to go pick up a child from school and can't leave the house with the oven on. Friend advises putting the bread outside where it is chilly so that the yeast growth is arrested. Follow her advice and go pick up child.
When arriving back at the house, surmise that you can warm it back up and maybe help it rise a little more by putting back in a warm oven. After another 30 minutes in warm oven, give up and bake the bread according to the original instructions. By dinnertime, remove bread from oven and present it to family as Dense Oatmeal Toasting Loaf for breakfast the next morning.
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Where there is smoke, there is...
...me, in the kitchen.
This is a regular scenario in my home. I am in the kitchen cooking dinner. My husband comes home and the first words out of his mouth are, "What's burning?"
Tonight we had pizza for dinner, by request of the kiddos. My seven-year-old made sure to ask me at the store while we were buying the ingredients, "Mom, please don't burn the pizza this time, okay?"
I didn't, not this time. But the last time, well, that's what prompted her to say that.
About three weeks ago, hubby and I were heading out to a concert in Tuscon, about two hours south of where we live. On a rainy Monday night. He had to rush home from work, and the plan was that we would eat dinner quickly, then get on the road. His brother was coming over to babysit.
The girls asked me that day for pizza for dinner. Easy-peasy, I thought. We picked up some yummy Amy's brand pizzas at the store and pre-made salad. We got home, I popped the pizzas in the oven and dumped the salad in a bowl.
Then I remembered that I needed to print out the directions to the venue. So I went to the computer to mapquest the theatre. See a pattern here? Me on the computer=fire in the kitchen.
A few minutes later I rushed out of the room and raced to the kitchen to get the pizzas out. Too late. When I opened the oven door, smoke billowed out and immediately filled the room. My kids and brother-in-law hopped off the couch and coughed out, "What happened?"
Not understanding how they could miss the OBVIOUS evidence of burned pizza, I cried out, "I ruined dinner!" My husband had just arrived home from work, saw the horrible look on my face, and announced, "I'm going to McDonald's. What do you want from there?"
Even Happy Meals didn't fix the kids' moods. They had wanted pizza that night. We left for the concert with my two children's eyes watering from a combination of disappointment and smoke inhalation.
The next day, I was folding laundry that had been left on the couch from the day before. Something wasn't right... I picked them up and inhaled the scent of burned pizza, captured in my family's pajamas and socks.
So today, I was very attentive to the pizza in the oven, not leaving the kitchen except to announce that it was perfectly cooked and ready. I hope the previous homemade pizza disaster will now be forgotten.
(Fat chance, I know.)
(Would you believe, that my brother-in-law peeled off and ate the unburned toppings from the charcoal pizzas that night?)
This is a regular scenario in my home. I am in the kitchen cooking dinner. My husband comes home and the first words out of his mouth are, "What's burning?"
Tonight we had pizza for dinner, by request of the kiddos. My seven-year-old made sure to ask me at the store while we were buying the ingredients, "Mom, please don't burn the pizza this time, okay?"
I didn't, not this time. But the last time, well, that's what prompted her to say that.
About three weeks ago, hubby and I were heading out to a concert in Tuscon, about two hours south of where we live. On a rainy Monday night. He had to rush home from work, and the plan was that we would eat dinner quickly, then get on the road. His brother was coming over to babysit.
The girls asked me that day for pizza for dinner. Easy-peasy, I thought. We picked up some yummy Amy's brand pizzas at the store and pre-made salad. We got home, I popped the pizzas in the oven and dumped the salad in a bowl.
Then I remembered that I needed to print out the directions to the venue. So I went to the computer to mapquest the theatre. See a pattern here? Me on the computer=fire in the kitchen.
A few minutes later I rushed out of the room and raced to the kitchen to get the pizzas out. Too late. When I opened the oven door, smoke billowed out and immediately filled the room. My kids and brother-in-law hopped off the couch and coughed out, "What happened?"
Not understanding how they could miss the OBVIOUS evidence of burned pizza, I cried out, "I ruined dinner!" My husband had just arrived home from work, saw the horrible look on my face, and announced, "I'm going to McDonald's. What do you want from there?"
Even Happy Meals didn't fix the kids' moods. They had wanted pizza that night. We left for the concert with my two children's eyes watering from a combination of disappointment and smoke inhalation.
The next day, I was folding laundry that had been left on the couch from the day before. Something wasn't right... I picked them up and inhaled the scent of burned pizza, captured in my family's pajamas and socks.
So today, I was very attentive to the pizza in the oven, not leaving the kitchen except to announce that it was perfectly cooked and ready. I hope the previous homemade pizza disaster will now be forgotten.
(Fat chance, I know.)
(Would you believe, that my brother-in-law peeled off and ate the unburned toppings from the charcoal pizzas that night?)
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Lucky Pie
Christmas dinner was a prime example of my ineptitude, hidden by stunning good luck and a little (desperate) ingenuity.
The menu:
Turkey (a 12-lb. organic, free-range bird ordered from my favorite butcher shop)
Cornbread stuffing
Mashed potatoes
Green salad
Homemade sourdough rolls
"Frantically Getting Ready for Christmas" Blackberry Pie
"Safeway Lied to Me" Banana Cream Pie
The guests: my husband's parents and his older brother, in addition to my family of four. Cooking for seven people, not too bad. Right?
Wrong.
The results, broken down:
Turkey -- Ingredients: check. Oven bag: check. Roasting pan: check. Okay, so far so good. Seasoned with white wine, vegetable stock, garlic, salt & pepper. Outcome? Dry. Now I realize what I forgot--to add some fat. At Thanksgiving, I also used olive oil to baste the turkey. That one was moist. Oops.
Cornbread stuffing -- Thank you, Mrs. Cubbison, for making this easy for me. Followed the instructions on the box, stuffed the bird, and the stuffing came out just fine. At least this dish was, um, uneventfully average.
Mashed potatoes -- While the peeled potatoes were boiling, I was on the phone with my husband trying to direct him to an open grocery store to get some last minute forgotten items. Sitting at the computer looking up holiday hours meant that I couldn't smell the potatoes burning on the other side of the house. He walked in, empty-handed from the fruitless driving around, and helped me rescue some of the spuds from the smoking pot. We smelled each one to detect any residual odor, and found that the majority of the batch was fine and only the bottom layer was black and stuck. After washing out the pot, I mixed them up with more veggie stock, salt & pepper, and the dish was passed around the table without a question or comment, except "Yum." Whew.
Green salad -- If I had the talent to screw this one up, then I wouldn't even bother with the rest of dinner. You'd find me at Boston Market instead.
Homemade sourdough rolls -- I love Krusteaz Sourdough Bread Mix. I put the mix in my bread machine with warm water and the yeast packet, set the dough cycle, then split the dough into little balls, let rise, then bake. So easy, and without starter. Except... the box must have been in the cupboard for a while. Actually, a long time. The included yeast packet was a dud. The rolls didn't rise, and we actually ended up with little unleavened flat sourdough-flavor bread disks. (Note to self -- remember to use fresher yeast with the other box still in the cupboard.)
"Frantically Getting Ready for Christmas" Blackberry Pie -- My kids spent the night of the 23rd on a sleepover at their grandparent's house. My in-laws made this offer so hubby and I could get ready for Christmas without little elves getting underfoot or making ourselves stay up all night. Since we had this time, I decided to get a head start on Christmas dinner by making dessert a day before. My preschooler had requested blackberry pie, so I had bought two pie crusts and two cans of berries. I had intended to make two pies with crumble topping, rather than one two-crust pie. Well, I should have bought four cans of berries. First mistake. After pre-baking both crusts, I realized that I would only get one pie's worth of filling. Second mistake, not being able at this point to make a two-crust pie. So I went forward with the crumble topping idea... which didn't crumble, but congealed into a batter. I dropped this by spoonfulls on top of the berries and baked it anyways, hoping for the best. It turned out alright, more like a "betty" than anything else. (The name is a nod to the film "Waitress," which you should see if you like to eat pie.)
"Safeway Lied to Me" Banana Cream Pie -- Since I had a leftover baked pie shell wrapped up in the fridge, I decided on Christmas morning to use it for banana cream pie. Except, I didn't have all the ingredients for the quick version (namely, banana instant pudding). This (along with milk, eggs and margarine) was one of the things for which I sent hubby to the store. I called all the surrounding grocery locations, and only found one Safeway that was open on Christmas day. The recording said they were open from 8 am to 2 pm. Hubby arrived at 1 pm to a throng of angry people ready to break in the doors of the store, which had closed at noon. There was a feebly scribbled note taped to the door announcing the revised hours. The steady stream of disappointed shoppers including several husbands clutching paper lists and cell phones, sighing head-shaking grandmothers moaning over missing ingredients and a pair of rednecks cursing with multiple inappropriate adjectives and nouns because they couldn't find a single open mini-mart or grocery store to buy beer. Forced to improvise, I decided to make the custard for the pie from scratch. With Eggbeaters. Except I only had egg-white Eggbeaters. Not good. With hubby dutifully asking if he could help in the kitchen, I set him at the stove whisking the custard. And whisking. And whisking. And complaining that his arm hurt from the whisking. The custard wasn't thickening. My mother-in-law arrived, so I put her to whisking. And it still wouldn't thicken. Hm. So I added cornstarch, and wow! It thickened! Like that! Once it was thick enough, I poured the "custard" over the bananas in the pie shell and chilled it. The mixture tasted fine, but it wasn't the best banana cream pie I've ever made. I blame Safeway.
It all made for an interesting and memorable Christmas dinner. My eternally hard-to-please father-in-law gave me probably the best compliment to date: "Michelle, by the time you're sixty, you'll learn to cook." I guess that means I am on my way.
I hope you had a happy, and successful, Christmas feast!
The menu:
Turkey (a 12-lb. organic, free-range bird ordered from my favorite butcher shop)
Cornbread stuffing
Mashed potatoes
Green salad
Homemade sourdough rolls
"Frantically Getting Ready for Christmas" Blackberry Pie
"Safeway Lied to Me" Banana Cream Pie
The guests: my husband's parents and his older brother, in addition to my family of four. Cooking for seven people, not too bad. Right?
Wrong.
The results, broken down:
Turkey -- Ingredients: check. Oven bag: check. Roasting pan: check. Okay, so far so good. Seasoned with white wine, vegetable stock, garlic, salt & pepper. Outcome? Dry. Now I realize what I forgot--to add some fat. At Thanksgiving, I also used olive oil to baste the turkey. That one was moist. Oops.
Cornbread stuffing -- Thank you, Mrs. Cubbison, for making this easy for me. Followed the instructions on the box, stuffed the bird, and the stuffing came out just fine. At least this dish was, um, uneventfully average.
Mashed potatoes -- While the peeled potatoes were boiling, I was on the phone with my husband trying to direct him to an open grocery store to get some last minute forgotten items. Sitting at the computer looking up holiday hours meant that I couldn't smell the potatoes burning on the other side of the house. He walked in, empty-handed from the fruitless driving around, and helped me rescue some of the spuds from the smoking pot. We smelled each one to detect any residual odor, and found that the majority of the batch was fine and only the bottom layer was black and stuck. After washing out the pot, I mixed them up with more veggie stock, salt & pepper, and the dish was passed around the table without a question or comment, except "Yum." Whew.
Green salad -- If I had the talent to screw this one up, then I wouldn't even bother with the rest of dinner. You'd find me at Boston Market instead.
Homemade sourdough rolls -- I love Krusteaz Sourdough Bread Mix. I put the mix in my bread machine with warm water and the yeast packet, set the dough cycle, then split the dough into little balls, let rise, then bake. So easy, and without starter. Except... the box must have been in the cupboard for a while. Actually, a long time. The included yeast packet was a dud. The rolls didn't rise, and we actually ended up with little unleavened flat sourdough-flavor bread disks. (Note to self -- remember to use fresher yeast with the other box still in the cupboard.)
"Frantically Getting Ready for Christmas" Blackberry Pie -- My kids spent the night of the 23rd on a sleepover at their grandparent's house. My in-laws made this offer so hubby and I could get ready for Christmas without little elves getting underfoot or making ourselves stay up all night. Since we had this time, I decided to get a head start on Christmas dinner by making dessert a day before. My preschooler had requested blackberry pie, so I had bought two pie crusts and two cans of berries. I had intended to make two pies with crumble topping, rather than one two-crust pie. Well, I should have bought four cans of berries. First mistake. After pre-baking both crusts, I realized that I would only get one pie's worth of filling. Second mistake, not being able at this point to make a two-crust pie. So I went forward with the crumble topping idea... which didn't crumble, but congealed into a batter. I dropped this by spoonfulls on top of the berries and baked it anyways, hoping for the best. It turned out alright, more like a "betty" than anything else. (The name is a nod to the film "Waitress," which you should see if you like to eat pie.)
"Safeway Lied to Me" Banana Cream Pie -- Since I had a leftover baked pie shell wrapped up in the fridge, I decided on Christmas morning to use it for banana cream pie. Except, I didn't have all the ingredients for the quick version (namely, banana instant pudding). This (along with milk, eggs and margarine) was one of the things for which I sent hubby to the store. I called all the surrounding grocery locations, and only found one Safeway that was open on Christmas day. The recording said they were open from 8 am to 2 pm. Hubby arrived at 1 pm to a throng of angry people ready to break in the doors of the store, which had closed at noon. There was a feebly scribbled note taped to the door announcing the revised hours. The steady stream of disappointed shoppers including several husbands clutching paper lists and cell phones, sighing head-shaking grandmothers moaning over missing ingredients and a pair of rednecks cursing with multiple inappropriate adjectives and nouns because they couldn't find a single open mini-mart or grocery store to buy beer. Forced to improvise, I decided to make the custard for the pie from scratch. With Eggbeaters. Except I only had egg-white Eggbeaters. Not good. With hubby dutifully asking if he could help in the kitchen, I set him at the stove whisking the custard. And whisking. And whisking. And complaining that his arm hurt from the whisking. The custard wasn't thickening. My mother-in-law arrived, so I put her to whisking. And it still wouldn't thicken. Hm. So I added cornstarch, and wow! It thickened! Like that! Once it was thick enough, I poured the "custard" over the bananas in the pie shell and chilled it. The mixture tasted fine, but it wasn't the best banana cream pie I've ever made. I blame Safeway.
It all made for an interesting and memorable Christmas dinner. My eternally hard-to-please father-in-law gave me probably the best compliment to date: "Michelle, by the time you're sixty, you'll learn to cook." I guess that means I am on my way.
I hope you had a happy, and successful, Christmas feast!
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