'Average' is the word I am using because I think that everyone in the whole world has a similar format to how their lives progress. Everyone goes through loss, love, success, good times, really hard times, etc. Now, not every person's loss or success is as monumental as someone else's, but the main idea is that you can't assume that your day is more of a challenge than a stranger's is. This blog contains the ramblings of the Average Person. Enjoy. Or don't. Whatever makes you happy.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
In the Average Kitchen
You always see blogs that have these beautiful, elaborate, "easy peasy" meals that their writers create for their readers, but what about the epic failures in the kitchen? You never see those. I want to see more kitchen goof-ups. I mean, total bombs that make you fake a smile for your family while you eat it and your kid gags it up before the end of the meal. That is the picture I want to create here.
I made a bomb of a meal last night. I'm a woman, not superwoman. I'm also a mom, and though my son may call me "Batmom," I'm no superhero. That being said, I have no time to screw around in the kitchen and all my meals are either easy, ugly and edible, or total goofs that no one will touch.
This particular piece-of-shit recipe was a new one. I've never cooked with Spaghetti Squash before, so I thought, hey, I'll give this a shot. The recipe only had 5 ingredients, so there's no fucking that up, right? Wrong. Total failure.
First, it started out with this mess. You poke holes in the squash and bake it for something like an hour. Then, you cut it open, scoop out the seeds and "easily scrape the insides out with a fork."
It got a little ridiculous.
Bullshit. It took a fork, a spoon and a fucking knife to get this shit out. At this point, my son looked at it and said, "What's that?" in a very, "there's no way I'm eating that" tone of voice. In the end, I finally got the squash's guts out and decided that I didn't cook it long enough.
Next, all you had to do was melt butter in a sauce pan, add garlic, basil and the spaghetti squash.
If by the second step you can see how terrible a meal is going to be, common sense says, "just stop." But, obviously, I have little to no common sense.
This doesn't look very appetizing. Let me taste it...yeah, not very appetizing. Whatever, I'll serve it anyway.
And I did. To horrible reviews. I think the exact words my son used were "yuck" and "disgusting."
Then, the last step of the recipe is to look at your empty plate after you forced down the terrible meal as a good example for your child and realize....you forgot to add the most important ingredient.
So...wait, this meal MIGHT have actually been delicious??