wtf (Where's the food?)

I spent ages writing a blog for this month that personally inspired me and in my head I was hoping to wow you all with the content. It was about the power of human energy transmitting emotions and its effect on people and animals. I thought it was absolutely great and read it out to Albert, but as I read my carefully composed sentences of awe inspiring ideas and theories his eyelids drooped and the bugger started yawning.

So! Rather than give you my invaluable insight of human thought energy transference I’ll just talk to you about cooking instead. I’m (cough cough) years old, not the youngest pixie in the forest these days and have had enough time to practice my culinary skills to know I’m stink at the job. I get confused these days over adjectives since I watched the XFactor and So You Think You Can Dance where ‘You killed it’ and ‘That was truly sick man’ were good comments, but I actually stink at cooking using old farts vernacular.

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Looking back over the years I have countless cooking events ranging from throwing tennis socks in a chip fryer by accident to sprinkling gravy granules on the top of a vegetarian gratin instead of breadcrumbs. My dog Chablis used to walk out of the house if I ever got the toaster out of the cupboard, because she couldn’t stand the smoke alarm going off. Just a couple of years ago I was enthused enough to attempt a chicken stew as a surprise for Albert when he got home. This was a surprise because I happen to be a veggie (please I am normal, I just don’t like eating my friends). I knew you had to slow cook a stew so I left it on the cooker top and went off up to my office (at the end of the garden) to do some work. Luckily someone phoned me eight hours later asking me for some information that I’d left in the house. Well, the house hadn’t actually burnt down but the $100 saucepan was pretty much welded to the top of the cooker hob. Stupidly, it was so hot (yes, white hot) I felt I couldn’t put it on the grass without starting a bush fire so I dumped it on one of our outdoor seating cushions. For goodness sake! They don’t make cushions out of cotton and horse hair any more?  So after one severely distorted pan base, a melted cushion and a house that smelled of smoke for over a week, Albert said he didn’t want to try my chicken stew! WHAT?

Chicken Stew

Last Thursday I had to go to the dentist and because I’m dental phobic they gave me a relaxing drug. Minus two wisdom teeth later (now don’t try to be funny with that one please) as a thank you to Albert for staying with me through the whole procedure I decided to surprise him with an evening meal of Edam pasta. I used a packet of Edam, special dried mushrooms and fresh asparagus cost $13. First I sautéed the mushrooms, garlic and butter in wine from a $30 bottle of wine I’d opened just for the purpose. Then I made a delicate rue of flour and butter, slowly stirring in the milk and Edam cheese. Leaving the pan for a while, I went off to make some changes to my website. On my return I found that the ingredients had separated giving the dish a look of boiled cottage cheese. After using the blender at high speed I managed to bring it back to a smooth consistency added the asparagus and mushrooms and left it again for a short drug induced nap. On waking I found that I had burnt the bottom of the delicate white sauce and needed to decant the remainder into another pan. After adding some grated parmesan and fresh herbs I knowledgeably decided it was unfit to eat, but because I had spent so much money on the ingredients put it aside to think of a way to save said dish and we had cheese and biscuits for dinner that night.

We were painting the kitchen on Saturday morning and after a few accusations flew around regarding the effects of changing the dogs diet from Eukanuba to Hills Science Diet we tracked down the smelly offender sitting in the corner of the worktop. Yes, northern Queensland + food left out + cheese and milk, not a pretty sight that turquoise and white fur.

Not sure if I was still drug affected by then but I felt it was just too gross to put in the bin so I decided to flush it down the toilet where is smelt it belonged.

Now the shower, hand basin, laundry and kitchen sinks are all out of action and Albert says I’m going to have to pay for the plumber to fix the mess out of my personal pocket money.

I’M SO NOT GOING TO COOK HIM A SURPRISE MEAL EVER AGAIN!