Evil Cookware

I had just fried an egg for lunch and was turning to get something else when I heard a loud hissing noise and my brother went, “Ahhh!” “Something wrong?” I asked, turning back to him. He had a kind of creeped out look on his face and said, “I was reaching over the pan and it hissed at me.” “Pans don’t like you.” I said. Maybe they don’t because he smashed one finger and burned another (not badly) while he was making his lunch.

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Strange Tastes

I’m in the middle of finals work (talk about nightmares for final exams you have taken!) and thus, my creative ability has been significantly diminished of late. I have a phone interview with the college that I really want to go to tomorrow night. I’m sure it’ll be fine…. *gulp* (Pray for me…please.) Anyway, as I drove home from Ick today and was trying not to think about finals, I remembered something I did back in the day which amuses me now. When I was three or four, Mom had a small Christmas tree on a card table (I think to keep the presents off the floor and away from little fingers) and I think there was a tablecloth over the table too. In any case, I remember taking a fresh package of cream cheese out of the fridge, getting a knife, and crawling under the card table to eat it. I know I got the foil package open and ate some of it with the knife…but I don’t remember how much I managed to eat before Mom looked under the table and found me. :-D As if that isn’t all… I used to eat frozen raw bacon from the butcher shop too. (I guess it is cured or smoked…but still….) My sister and I actually got away with that a few times before Mom caught us. My brother is also known to have tried to eat a stick of butter in a similar way to my cream cheese episode…. My poor mother… :-) (Don’t worry we weren’t habitually rotten. :-D) Ah, childhood. It’s a wonder anyone survives it.

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The Magically Evolving Sauce

I spent most of today doing homework―that’s what comes from spending two days at your grandma’s house…but it was a fun two days so that makes up for the homework. Anyway, rather than work on my research paper anymore, I think I will tell the tale of my Eggs Benedict experiment. Now, Eggs Benedict is basically an Egg McMuffin (the McDonalds breakfast sandwich) with hollandaise sauce poured over it. I’ve always wanted to try Eggs Benedict so; I gathered the ingredients for making the sandwich (English muffins, Canadian bacon, American cheese, and eggs.) Now, the first day I decided to attempt this experiment was a Saturday and my Dad decided that since I’d acquired all the ingredients for Egg McMuffins that he had to have one. I was a little annoyed since I had to make it for him and this delayed my breakfast. (I can become rather cranky if I don’t eat…and/or I get all shaky and weird from low blood sugar.) He did help though and the next thing I know, he’s taken the American cheese from the refrigerator and said, “Looks like this is the last piece.” Now, these sandwiches are worthless without cheese and I know it. So, I’m frying the egg for his sandwich, biting my tongue, and wanting to say a few choice words about putting American cheese on the shopping list…but I don’t. After all, it’s not Dad’s fault and I know that―it’s just a very irritating circumstance. And, at least I hadn’t made the hollandaise yet. So Dad gets his sandwich and I go upstairs and vent in private.
Attempt #2…. A few days later, with American cheese in the fridge, I decided to try again. In a double boiler, I mix butter, egg yolks, hot water, pepper, and lemon juice. (I had to run down to my grandma’s to find the lemon juice and thankfully, she had some.) Once it’s mixed, I taste the sauce and make a face. Don’t let anyone fool you; hollandaise sauce is one of the nastiest concoctions on earth. I made it correctly and it was smooth and just as it was supposed to be but ugh! It tasted like melted butter, with egg yolks, and lemon juice. No, there is no magic in the recipe―it tastes just like its ingredients. Double yuck, yuck. There I am, with half a recipe of hollandaise sauce and I hate it. Enter Mom. “You know, it’s basically a custard with the egg yolks and butter…why don’t you add sugar and make it into lemon custard?” Okay, that sounds reasonable. I pull out the old cookbook and find custard recipes―it is very similar―and mix in the right amount of sugar. It’s palatable as custard and except for the few grains of pepper; you’d never know it used to be hollandaise sauce. I tasted it and probably could have eaten it if I hadn’t made it and smelled it when it was in its prior state. My brother ate it and said it was good. I still had egg whites left over and under the custard recipes; I see a recipe for “Floating Island” which is mentioned in the Betsy-Tacy books and is basically soft custard with meringue topping. Aha! Something to do with the egg whites! So I whisk up the meringue and now I have Floating Island. When my sister got home from work I said, “I made floating island, you know like in Betsy-Tacy.” What I didn’t tell her was that the Floating Island was once hollandaise sauce… at least, not until um...now. :-D


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