Of my cooking, it has been said, "When [I'm] on, [I'm] on." And it happens to be true. When I'm on, I can turn out some pretty good stuff. Of course, the rest of this evaluation (implied but unspoken) turns out to be equally true. When I'm off, I'm off.
This is one of the reasons we don't entertain more than we do. A big one. The other big one, I would say is Brian's lack-of-desire-to-entertain. I don't think he thinks about it much, so almost always, if we do have people over, it's pretty much all on me. That doesn't mean he won't help out, but it is obvious that when it is my idea, it is me who does most of the work--with the exception of clean-up. My sweet husband rolls up his sleeves and cleans up after dinner, wheter it's Thanksgiving or just a random Thursday. Such a good man!
Yep. When I'm on, I'm on, but when I'm off, it's time to call for pizza. This means that if I consider having people over to dinner, I am potentially subjecting them to a night of bad food. Hard to do. This is why, I guess, mostly I invite people over who I am confident possess a degree of unconditional love for our family.
I once made a casserole with spam, eggs, noodles, condensed mushroom soup, bread, brussel sprouts, copious amounts of Velveeta, and an abundance of ketchup. It was served cold. I served it inverted on a platter, garnished with fresh brussel sprout leaves and a big squirt of ketchup. There are pictures. The ketchup was the kicker, because our friend and dinner guest for the evening, Jami, has an unnatural fear of condiments. She literally has never tasted most condiments and does not like to touch them.
To be fair and honest, no one ever actually tasted that 'Fiesta Bake.' I cracked up (hysterically) before Jami got it to her mouth. I think, to her, it ended up being something like a near-death experience. That Fiesta Bake was the center of an elaborate plan to freak out those new friends of ours and test their mettle. (Now that I think about it, it was a clever way to induct them into dinner at our house. As bad as dinner could get, it would never hold a candle to that Fiesta Bake!) I clearly have issues--let's just take a moment to respect that.
Know what? In retrospect, the funniest part of that night is that the "real" dinner, which was in the oven, was salmon. Our friend JT hates fish, unless it's sushi. We didn't learn that until later. He and Jami were true troopers that night and have been ever since. They even enlisted the help of her parents to get us back with a terrible, terrible breakfast involving uncooked beans (or something). A moment of silence in respect for the terrible breakfast (which had a name which I have forgotten), and the fiesta bake, please.
There was another time it got bad with Jami and JT. Until I have time to fully flesh out this story, let's just say that it involved me trying to pass venison off as beef in a bean soup, and that it did not pass. We ordered pizza. That was my first time trying to use venison (and probably my last).
Maybe you're wondering what prompted this post about culinary disaster. Are you? This afternoon, I made (deep breath) peanut butter oatmeal ginger chocolate chip cookies. Interesting. No, you may not have the recipe, because there isn't one. And is it another disaster? The kids like them, maybe not a disaster, but an adventure.