My Sundays are great. Typically they're a day reserved for "down time" (kudos to my mom on instilling that concept at an early age, much to my pre-teen chagrin), we try not to schedule anything so we can relax and get minor chores done with no pressure whatsoever. Often on these days we have a nice breakfast, one that takes more than a toaster to prepare.
Now, I'm not the family chef, you can add cooking to the list of my many low-level skills (it would be a no-level skill except I occasionally need to keep myself alive if Troy is gone). Grilled cheese sandwiches are my forte, your other option is chips and salsa and beyond that you are taking a great risk having me in the kitchen. HOWEVER, I'm really trying (the past two weeks) to do better. I made a list recently of all the projects I want done around the house before baby comes, and quickly realized that due to my Delicate State I will be of very little help with any of them - my strength and stamina stats have gone down the drain, and sadly none of our house projects require sitting and pointing (at which I excel). So I want to help out by taking the cooking off of Troy's plate sometimes (or putting it on his plate... hahaha, oh the jokes). Thanks to the food service, Blue Apron, we are getting ingredients and fool-proof recipes sent to our house each week, and this is my portal into Gordon Ramsay level Cooking Perfection. I even occasionally cuss out my sous chef (pictured below) just to make sure I'm doing it right.
I went into last Sunday with a whole, entire 2 Blue Apron meals successfully under my belt and an inflated sense of self confidence when it comes to navigating the kitchen. I was going to impress my husband with an adorably folksy breakfast of berries and cream over biscuits with a side of vegetarian sausage patties - all inspired by the delightful meander we had through the farmer's market the day before.
The biscuits and whipped cream would be made from scratch because that's what the pros do. First things first, Google finds me the best recipe possible within 10 seconds (it was THIS one by the New York Times, highly rated). I read through it, and it doesn't look too hard. I do feel the word "scant" in regards to sugar is 1) vague and 2) inappropriate (surely there is never a time when more sugar doesn't equal better), but I go with it and follow the instructions very thoroughly. I triple check my measurements (I have some past mishaps in that area), use the correct tools (Troy tells me the glass measuring cup is for "liquid" ingredients and the cups that come in a set are for "dry" ingredients), and set timers so my dough can "rest" just the right amount of time (it did take a beating earlier, hardy har har). I feel confident and am even daydreaming about how I will pass this expert triple-checking discipline on to my son.
The biscuits go in the oven and I begin happily mixing my whipped cream, again congratulating myself on superior efficiency and time management. 6 minutes before the biscuit timer goes off I smell them, really well, better than I should be able to. I go to check on them - uh oh - burnt. Shoot! Well that is completely my fault, I knew my oven runs hot and still I turned it to the exact temperature in the recipe, rookie mistake! I also feel like they are a bit flat. The picture showed a beautifully flakey biscuit, easily 3 inches tall. Oh well, it's probably because they were over cooked. I try again.
This time I turn down the temperature, set my timer for less time and watch the oven like a cub scout making a fire for signs of burning. I'm still in high spirits while I set the table, I even go so far as to cut flowers from the garden as decoration. I am seriously charming today! Finally it's time to take out the biscuits, they are perfectly golden. I wrap them in my cutest kitchen towel and put them in a bowl (like they do with the fancy bread at Italian restaurants). I can't help but notice that they are still so flat! I hate media with their cameras that always makes food look better than it is. The recipe should have been more forthcoming about the biscuit's actual size. Oh well, not my fault, I followed the directions perfectly and know they will taste amazing!
Troy sits down and I swell with pride as he tells me how lovely breakfast looks and that he's so grateful that I made it. Then he pulls out a biscuit, and immediately notices it's size..."I know!" I say, "it's just so weird that the picture is so different. No one said anything about it in the comments, isn't that odd?" Then he starts to pick apart the recipe, asking me about the ingredients and how much I put in. I'm pleased to tell him that I triple checked every possible measurement and even let the dough rest! "And then I added the baking powder, and a scant amount of sugar whatever that-" I see his light bulb go off. "And you know for a fact that you used baking powder?" He asks. "Oh yes, I am very confident," I say, "I would never mess that up - it's the one in the bright orange box!" He promptly jumps up and gets said box, "This one?" Yup, that was the one. The one that read BAKING SODA in very big, blue and white letters on the front.
"How much did you add again?" Now I'm sheepish, "2 tablespoons..." He laughs, "I thought something was fizzing in my mouth! I'm not sure it's even safe to have that much bisodium carbonate! The box says to use 1 teaspoon for a whole batch of cookies!" He reaches across the table for a blackberry and smashes it onto his plate. He adds a biscuit piece, and sure enough it bubbles...
Luckily the rest of the meal was delicious, and I have a new goal to try that recipe one more time with the baking soda far, far out of reach. I wish I had a picture for you, but am not in the habit of documenting quite yet. I'll update on my next attempt and I'm sure you'll be quite impressed.
So tell me, Perfect Stranger, do you do the cooking or leave it to the professionals? What is your favorite dish to make or eat?