(Reworked from several old posts & some new stuff that I just thought of.)
To paraphrase our late commander in chief, there have been some rare times when I felt like saying, "I am not a cook."
Here are some of them:
We had a dog, Pepe, who would eat anything. He used to nose around when I was sweeping the kitchen floor to see what delicacies he might glean in the dust. One day I served meatloaf for dinner, as I had done many times before. Bud said it tasted funny & he wouldn’t eat it. The kids agreed. I said it was just fine. Bud said not even the dog would eat it. I said, “Oh, yeah?”, took his plate & put it on the floor. Pepe came over, sniffed the meatloaf & walked away. I never trusted that dog again. I sent the kids & Bud this ecard a year ago:
When we were first married Bud was in the Army, stationed at Fort Ord. He was a 2nd lieutenant in the Finance Corps. We often had enlisted men (although we weren't supposed to fraternize with enlisted
swine men) over for dinner because we liked them much better than the officers. One day I made attempted to make peach pie for dessert. It turned out to be too runny for a pie & too thick to be a cobbler. I told them it was peach piebler. They loved it & finished it.
This was not bad cooking, just bad timing:
I was working as a dental assistant on the post. As such, I got my own dentistry done for free. I had two wisdom teeth removed & since I felt fine & was pain-free afterwards we decided to have our friends for dinner. I made one of my favorites; swiss steak. Swiss steak cannot be too thin or it won't cook properly. We all sat down to dinner & I sliced a small bite of the swiss steak & brought it towards my mouth. I couldn't open my mouth far enough to put it in!! I tried a smaller piece & my mouth still wasn't working well enough to eat it. I'm not sure what I did but I probably cried. They finished the swiss steak & didn't even leave me any leftovers for when I could eat properly.
I am good at following recipes:
Around this same time, I called my mom & you have to realize that neither she or I made very many long distance calls because at that time they were expensive, but wrote letters, instead. She was concerned that maybe Bud or I was ill, or that we were having marital problems. It was much more serious than that; I needed her recipe for chopped liver!!
And sometimes my meal was OK, but I wasn't:
My young children were acting up at the dinner table & I told them very sternly to stop. They started laughing at me! I guess it could have been because I was holding a plastic party glass (the kind you have to put together) of red wine while I was scolding them. I was holding it cupped in my hand with 2 fingers on either side of the stem, which had stayed on the table when I lifted the glass. I was fuming & they were laughing as the wine was slowly but steadily flowing out of the small hole in bottom of the glass. Therefore, this became my new philosophy:
(Disclaimer: I can cook, but I don’t now! I cooked for my family for many years & even threw a lot of dinner parties. For Christmas & Thanksgiving we used to have dinner for up to 50 people. I just got tired of it. Now, on the rare occasions when I do cook, I make a roasting pan full of chili or 2 or 3 pot roasts & freeze them in individual servings, so we can still have some home cooked meals.)