HOME > Chowhound > Not About Food >


Taking The Credit

  • h

A client invited me over for dinner and served the most delicious Acorn Squash soup I've ever tasted. Creamy, just warm enough to bring out all the goodness. I raved about it for weeks. At one point she mentioned sharing the recipe, although I didn't ask. But, with Thanksgiving approaching I thought it would make a wonderful addition to our family meal so I asked her for a copy the next time she had it handy. Her reply: visit the X market, they sell it by the quart! And off she ran, laughing! Well...I had to giggle...the time had come for her to come clean! I suppose the flavorful bread she served with the soup was also store bought (hahaha)..

Which got me thinking...have you ever taken credit for food you did not prepare? Did you come clean at some point?

Just for fun...inquiring minds wanna know :)

  1. Click to Upload a photo (10 MB limit)
  1. No but I am a caterer, and often times people will say "don't make it look too good or people won't believe I made it;)" So this is common.

    1. No, but I almost never serve anything that isn't home made (exceptions are chips, nuts). Sometimes I'll put out something someone gave me or brought but I always give the credit to the giver.

      1. No. I did read an article where someone said she baked a cake for a bake sale, but it fell. She didn't have time to make another one so she propped it up w/ empty toilet paper rolls and decorated it. She figured she'd rush to the sale, buy it and throw it out but someone beat her to it and it was gone. She went to a party later that day, overheard people praising the hostess about this beautiful centerpiece cake and the hostess taking all the credit for it. Turned out to be the baker's cake. She said she didn't say a word.

        1 Reply
        1. Had to laugh when I read your post. As a child we would pile in the car to race off to some potluck or other, with Mom carefully placing her big cut glass serving bowl and a sparkling silver serving spoon in the front seat. She'd swing by KFC for some coleslaw and I'd have to dump it carefully into the bowl. I don't remember her ever admitting to this.

          My mother in law does this routinely, evading questions regularly about where that delicious potato salad came from.

          I do this rarely but in my younger, post college days I had a group of snobby friends over for Mexican food. I bought the tamales and salsas, and when they all commented that they couldn't believe I'd go to the trouble of making tamales for them I just smiled and asked for someone to pass the margaritas.

          2 Replies
            1. re: Ruby Louise

              I love the cole slaw at KFC. Perhaps I will lose any credibility with this board for my confession -- but it's my guilty pleasure! Your mom is welcome at my house anytime.

            2. My grandmother was in a quiet, passive-agressive, southern-lady-style competition with my great-aunt Wilma (yes, Wilma). Apparently Wilma trumped my grandmother, or so she felt, in every aspect of cooking except my grandmother's famoush German potato salad. Only after she died did I learn it came from a can! This is especially funny because she was such an honest, sweet person normally. Knowing that she did this made her seem more human-- makes me feel better about my own little pettinesses. I love to think of her smiling innocently as she served her little canned secret...

              4 Replies
              1. re: Procrastibaker

                A little off topic but this discussion reminds me of a story that is a family favorite. My mother's best friend for many, many years was Carrie, who with her husband owned the local hardware store in our small town of 2,500 where I was raised. Carrie made a mustard ham sauce that was out of this world. To this day, I can't bake a ham for any holiday without serving *Carrie's Ham Sauce,* as it became known in our circle of friends. For years, my mother would ask Carrie for the recipe but she'd never commit to giving it to her. A few days later there'd be a knock at the front door and there would be Carrie standing there with a quart-sized jar filled with her ham sauce. Well, this went on for more than 30 years. Literally on her death bed, dying of cancer at the local hospital, Carrie instructed her husband to bring her her recipe file box. One of her last acts on this Earth was to copy the recipe for my mother. Mom and Carrie are both gone now, but I smile each time I make this *top secret* recipe.

                1. re: pilotgirl210

                  Both good stories!! Procrastibaker... your story reminds me so much of my grandma and her three sisters, one great aunt in particular! pilotgirl210... what's in the sauce?!? ;-)

                  1. re: Katie Nell

                    I'll find the recipe at home tonight and post it, but basically it is sugar, cider vinegar, an egg, some butter, several tablespoons of Coleman's dried mustard and, I can't remember, but maybe a touch of water. The whole thing boils hard for at least 10 or 15 minutes and then you pour it through a sieve into a jar or serving container to make certain no scrambled egg makes it into the final product. It is equally good served hot or cold. It has a sweet/sour quality that is very, very good (like a good shrimp sauce), and I always serve it in a clear container as the yellow coloring of the end product is very appealing.

                2. Never

                  What do I care if I made it or someone else. If it's good it's good.


                  1 Reply
                  1. re: Davwud

                    Yeah, why go through the trouble of lying? The people who know you're a great cook aren't going to begrudge you one time when you were too busy to make something, and if you're not a good cook everyone already knows that too.

                    Besides, getting the credit for sourcing out some incredibly delicious food gets you bragging rights too. Some of my friends would much rather have good advice (___ has the best cookies, and they're cheap too!) than some cookies that I made that they'd never be able to get their hands on again.