Since I am in to sharing my blunders. I thought since it's another rainy day, I probably won't be riding or running tonight, so I'm going to make another sad (if only you knew) attempt at cooking. I am an active person. Somehow in my lifetime I never really took the time to learn to cook. My Mom wasn't the worlds greatest cook, but my Dad is pretty good. My two older sisters are good at cooking too. I just don't have the patience. My time is spent teaching students and riding horses or taking care of my animals (that includes roomates). Its amazing how I can have the patience to work with a young horse for hours on end or watch a student trot cirles around me for days on end and never tire of it, but if I am reading a recipe and it isn't working the way I want it to I get so mad. The following mishap is mostly because of my sheer impatience. If I had just taken the time to listen I might not have almost ruined dinner.
A couple of years ago I lived in the small town of Midway (technically where I live now is in Georgetown so no correcting me) with two roomates (how do I always end up with two?). In this household we took turns making dinner each night, so every third night it was my turn. Oh, how I dreaded those nights. I knew I couldn't make macaroni every time, so I figured I'd make an attempt to make something better. I went to Kroger and they had a big sale on Ham. I was excited. I'd seen my Mom make ham in the past and thought for sure i'd be fine. My confidence failed me the minute I got home.
I decided to call Justin, who was at his barn taking care of his horse. He was the roomate who knew how to cook and I was sure he could help me get started over the phone. He told me the temperature the oven needed to be and to put the ham in a casserole dish and to get toothpicks and toothpick pineapple all over the ham to help keep it from drying out. Here's where I told him I'm in trouble. I didn't know I needed pineapple at the store...darnit I thought that was just to dress the damn thing up, not to help somehow. He told me we had pineapple in the fridge (apparently people eat that stuff as a snack daily). I thought for sure now I was golden.
I looked in the fridge and there it was, pineapple chunks. I didn't see anything else (impatience strike) so I thought, hey these will work, and off I go spearing pinapple chunks onto this half pound ham (totally guessing on size here). I put my ham in the oven and off I go to play in the back yard with Ilsa, my German Shepard. Im out there for what seems like eternity and decide I'm bored and I need to check the ham. Oh, boy did it smell good. Justin had said it needed quite some time to cook so I went to watch TV. A little while later everyone comes home. Justin comes in the house and says it smells good, so I'm proud, I may have finally cooked something edible. I ask him if he will go check on it and tell me how its looking. A debate ensues where he says it smells fine, it must be fine. I don't agree, just go check it is all I ask.
I stay in the family room, hear Justin open the oven in the kitchen, and then a looonnggg pause. Now I'm worried (oh dear god the ham has gone poof, it's black and theres nothing left I'd better get out the pizza coupons and order something). I sit there in agony waiting for something, anything, just tell me! Justin says from the kitchen, "Mandy come here" with such incredulty that I am terrified. I go slinking in the kitchen. Justin has pulled the ham out of the oven and its a sight. It looks like a kid who has had knots put in her hair has stuck her finger in a light socket and gotten shocked until every little knot is a smoking, burning mess.
I am so shocked. I don't know what I thougth was going to happen. I think I thought I'd walk into the kitchen and there would be this Suzie homemaker commercial moment where he's set the ham on the oven and there's a little halo around it and some angelic music. He starts taking the burnt chunks-o-char off of the ham and throwing them away. He asks me what I was thinking? Thats what the rings-o-pineapple were for. They are on the shelf in the fridge right NEXT to where the chunks were. I told him sheepishly that I didn't see them and I thought the chunks would work, besides the rings with the cherries in the middle were something you saw on a 1965 sitcom on TV (insert dubious look here).
It turns out that the ham was actually pretty good, what we got to eat of it anyway. Everyone had served themselves dinner and we are all happily eating (actually more shocked because it wasn't a dry throat closing, burnt tasting mess) when we hear a *thud* in the kitchen. All three of us pause and I look around for Ilsa. She's always right near me. We then hear a scraping noise in the kitchen and since we are all in the other room and we don't have any cats, something is wrong. We get up and run in the kitchen to see Ilsa jet, tail tucked from just under the table where she has pulled the last hunk of ham down and had been knawing at it furtively. She thought my attempt at cooking was so good she had to share too!
I was so mad at her that day, but I guess I should have been flattered, maybe? My dog thought I'd finally gotten dinner right too.
And yet I still can't cook to save my life. If it comes from a can or a box I'm golden. If your daring and I decide to cook one night, come try it. If you can keep it down, you might be able to apply to be on one of those TV shows, Survivor or Fear Factor.
signing off~Mandy
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