Ever Had A Really Funny Food Moment?
My mother made wonderful pies. And although she limited herself to making just a few recipes, they were truly excellent. There were seven people in our family, so when mom made a pie each mouthful was truly savored because one piece was all you were going to get!
With this background I remember the day, so many years ago, that mom decided to make one of her old fashioned pecan pies. The house was filled with those yummy aromas as it baked, and we were all eagerly looking forward to dinner time. After taking her perfect pecan pie out of the oven and setting it on the kitchen table, mom left her creation to cool. About 30 minutes passed. Then it happened.
Somebody let the dog in. His name was Howard, and he apparently also loved mom's pies. Fast as lightning he ran to the table, climbed up on a chair and began wildly chomping into that pie. My mother and I ran in, screamed, yelled, waved our arms frantically at him to stop, but to absolutely no avail. I still remember how he kept right on gorging himself while glancing nervously sideways out of scared, but very determined, doggie eyes. Wow, what a gamble he took. Like I said, mom made wonderful pies!
Anybody else have a great food memory like this to share?
Not me personally, but when the first Mrs. O was a teenager living on Ft. Bragg - her father was an Army officer - her big tomcat let himself into the adjoining house one Thanksgiving Day and devoured most of their turkey. This was less humorous at the time because the occupant of that house was Col. Hancock's commanding officer …
Painfully funny was the time I took a casserole from the oven of my brother's woodburning stove one day, wearing mitts on both hands. I put the dish carefully on a trivet, removed the mitts, and then took the casserole lid off. Hilarious!
This might qualify. My first time camping. I was smart enough to bring my cast iron skillet. Fried up some sausage patties the first morning. Smelled wonderful, everything was going fine until I put the hot sausage onto a styrofoam plate. We were short a few patties that first morning.
Summer time, several years ago. Had 2 smallish chickens to cook on grill. SIL, BIL, & 2 kids over, so didn't wanna have to baby-sit the birds.
Started them on hot side (other side off) till they had some nice color. Then started swapping back and forth... to OFF side for maybe 10-15 minutes, then to ON side... alternating which side had flame. Essentially all in-direct cookiing after initial browning.
Had made what I thought was last swsap and started bragging that these chickens were the most BEAUTIFUL things. Lifted the lid and they were both TOTALLY BLACK!?! Apparently an undetected flare up from accumulating chicken fat in bottom of grill. Thought BIL was gonna bust a blood vessel he was laughing so hard! I just started whacking at the black stuff and it pretty much came off easily. Chicken was still very tasty, just not cookbook beautiful!?!
As a math specialist for primary students, we did some cooking to work on fractions, etc. my students made some blueberry muffins that came out beautifully. I had them take one to the principal. When they returned they had a sad look on their face because she had bitten into the muffin, only to discover they had added a tablespoon of salt instead of a teaspoon, and she had been a bit shocked by the flavor! She later told me she had tried soooo hard to look as if she was enjoying the muffin. We laughed!
Hope this qualifies:
As a single mom, one of our primary fun summer activities was camping, to the extent that the back of the minivan was always packed with a tent, sleeping bags, etc: all we needed to do for an impromptu trip to the river was requisition food supplies, and away we went!
But I digress.
The kids were always super helpful about getting set up and then doing their own thing, and I was always happy w/ the campfire cooking setup. The "washup" shack for grills and dishes was a ways away, so I'd boil a pot of water and toss everything into it and then truck it all up to the washup the next morning. Anyhoo, one night it was a little damp, and we struggled to get a nice warm fire going, but get it going we did. After dinner, I asked #1 son to "go get a big pot of water, and put it on the fire."
So he did.
And how. After I'd counted to ten, and realized that he'd simply done exactly what I asked, it became family legend. And of course, in the re-telling, it went something like this:
#2 son: remember when we went camping and you told dumbass to put the water on the fire?
me: don't call him a dumbass; he was your brother.
#2: okay, remember when Mike pulled that dumbass move with the water on the fire?
me: how could I forget? I've never run a gamut of emotions that fast in my life: disbelief, horror, despair, and laughter.
#2: that part was pretty dumbass too.
me: you really need to apologize; I don't like you using that towards anybody.
#2: I'm sorry. Sorry you were both so dumbass.
Love being here, gal. I really do enjoy jumping back in the water. Oh, and to Kim: IF I'd said that - and I thought about it, among other saltier answers - to #2 son, his only POSSIBLE answer would've been, "well it beats being a dumbass."
I learned early on to not egg 'em on because as a rule they were funnier and meaner than me. :)