Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Possible eBay Project

I'm calling this my Autumn Stew and filing it under All's Well That Ends Well -- I Think. It turned out to be scrump-diddly-icious -- which is Goddess-speak for "Hot dayum but that's good!" Which is only fair because I went through seventeen kinds of fresh hell to achieve it.

You know how I was figuring on sprouting those Cranberry beans? Yeah. Well, I must have done something wrong because when I checked them this morning, the damned things not only weren't showing even the slightest indication they were going to cooperate in the project, they were starting to get slimy! Bleech! I took that as a personal insult, given that I've been faithfully and frequently rinsing them since Friday evening. Nothing for it but to dump the whole batch in the garbage and start fresh.

Only this time I figured to do them the regular way. No more Ms. Plupatient. (If pluperfect means "more than perfect," I figure plupatient is a legitimate extrapolation.) Anyway, I brought them to a boil, let 'em bubble for 2 minutes, turned off the heat, put on the lid and let them soak for an hour. Then drain, rinse, cover with water, bring to a boil again, and turn heat down so they will cook nicely while my back is turned. Because I had other things to do.

Well, guess I didn't turn the heat down far enough. Seemed like no time at all had gone by when I walked into the kitchen for a refill of the sacred brew, only to realize there was an ominous stench of scorched beans in the air. I had let them burn dry! In my really good cookware, I might add.

A quick dose of hot water and baking soda and a lot of expletive deleteds later, the pot was like new again, another batch of beans hit the garbage and I had calmed down enough to say, "Okay, third time, etc." and started yet another pot of beans. I figure at that point I'd bollixed up about a buck-fifty in beans. Don't you just hate when that happens?

This time I made sure the heat was low enough and that there was plenty of water because those puppies sure soak up the moisture. Remember that nice squash I cooked and cubed and put up in quart-sized freezer bags? One of those turned out to be just right to add to the beans. Then half a Vidalia sweet onion sliced thin, two more cups of water and some chicken bullion, a sprinkle of cayenne and a handful of some of those pineapple chunks I was drying. As the squash broke down, it provided just the right amount of thickening for the stew, which I thought was considerate.

I could have put some bacon in it. Or, if I had it, some ham would have been good. But I was more than happy with the stew just the way it is. For a change, I managed exactly the right amount of cayenne -- enough to warm the cockles of my heart. Warm cockles are very important. And the pineapple provided a great accent. I've become quite fond of mixing fruit with savory dishes.

Maybe I should sell this service on eBay. Tell folks that for a reasonable bid -- which would be enough Yankee dollahs to cover possible emergency room expenses -- I would try out their culinary adventure of choice, thereby making all the awful mistakes so they don't have to. I haven't studied the demographics but I'll just bet there's a market out there.


Wilma said...

Hi Dee, Just wondered if you knew my friend Willy on OD. His son died yesterday. Sad to live to be 93 and then have your only son die before you do. So when are you getting signed up for your cooking show?

Dee said...

Oh, Wilma. I'm so sorry to hear about Willy's son. I don't know Willy but I think you steered me to the site once. Wasn't it about repelling skeeters -- he had a good tip? You help him with the web site, correct?

Cooking show? Me? It'll never happen. I can't smile for 30 minutes like Rachel Rae and Emeril stole all the "Bams!" It's much safer right here.

Ava said...

I read once about a man who broke in other people's new shoes for them, so I suppose trying out recipes might be a lucrative career for you. You are certainly adventurous enough. I am not to brave when it comes to experimenting, especially when I think of the money wasted in thrown out failures. LOL

I really can't imagine what the stew tasted like, but if you say it was good, well I have to believe you. A goddess wouldn't lie, right?


bb said...

Well I guess if a woman can rent space on her pregnant belly you can be a kitchen tester. :-)