Sunday, January 18, 2009

Urg, The Truth Comes Out, and a Kitchen Disaster.

"Urg." That's what my stomach had to say about another meal of pasta and pesto. I don't particularly blame it for not being happy... but keeping me up all night with cramps was not what I had in mind.

Meanwhile the truth came out about how my husband feels about my hair. He's been pointing out that "if it bothers you, you can get it cut" for some time now. Apparently that is polite Danish for "you look like a damn fool, get a haircut moron!" Although, in order to tell me the truth, the closest he got was telling me that it "looked messy." I had to really press him to get him to admit that he really wanted me to get a haircut because he wasn't liking the mop on my head. And he looked so miserable to admit it. I almost feel bad for making him speak a not-so-pretty truth. But at least I got it out of him. And I'll now go and get a haircut.

I have been walking around the kitchen for few days feeling like Lady MacBeth. Every now and then I shriek, grab a towel and begin vigorously scrubbing the counter while sobbing "it won't go away!" This is due to the kitchen disaster of a few days ago. Kitchen disasters are so variable. There's the injuring yourself, ruining dinner, running out of or not having the correct ingredients (especially 5 minutes after the store closes), setting fire to the kitchen, and making a mess. I made a mess. Which resulted in me not having enough of one ingredient and distracted me enough that I almost ruined dinner. I only managed not to injure myself or set fire to the kitchen by the grace of god. It began with me asking my husband what he'd like for dinner. I have a really varied repertoire these days, so this took some thought. And then he chose a meal that surprised me. He wanted Caribbean Rice with Beans and Cornbread. I was surprised because it's much closer to my favorite cuisine (Mexican) than his (Californian) (yes, I realize that's weird, since I am a Californian, but it is because I am a Californian that I love Mexican. This makes sense if you are from California, just go with it.).

Anyway, I was happily prepping the cornbread when I got to the stage that says mix eggs, milk, and vegetable oil. I had the eggs already whisked in a bowl and was measuring out the milk and oil. Half a cup of milk, quarter of oil. Since it is damned hard to measure a quarter cup in my very large 4 cup measuring cup, I put in the half cup of milk first and then add the oil before pouring the whole thing into the eggs. Now, for reasons that *completely* escape me, I was actually using a small metal measuring cup that I found deep within the bowels of the cabinets. So I didn't need to put milk and oil together first...

Moving on. I had half a cup of milk in my little measuring cup and was lifting the (plastic) bottle of oil and bringing it close to my person to that I could open the bottle when the bottle slipped in my hand. My hand, being a clever little bastard, tried to catch the bottle by the lid, which is where it all went horribly wrong.

The top came off.

The bottle crashed down landing on top of the measuring cup sending half a cup of milk all over the kitchen (and myself) followed quickly by an arc of vegetable oil. I'd say about a cup of oil was tossed around the kitchen. Midway through dinner prep and I have to stop and change clothes and clean the kitchen. Boo. Hiss. Gar-friggen-dang-it-all.

Milk, it appears, is fairly easy to clean up. Mop up. Wash everything down with hot soapy water. Done.

Oil, not so much. Not a big surprise, really, but it is amazing how oil gets EVERYWHERE. And it's completely invisible once it is outside the bottle. Unless you have wood or white countertops, I'm guessing. But I don't have those. I have black and grey speckled counters. Once you wipe up oil, you then wash everything you can think of, including your cookbook which will never again be the same, with hot soapy water. But this doesn't get rid of the oil! Oh no. Because it's hiding.

Hidden oil, or even oil slicked places that you have washed with soapy water becomes sticky. Sticky and oily all at once, which defies everything I thought I knew about chemistry and physics (which, admittedly, isn't much even though I took both in high school). So here it is, days later, long after the everything has been eaten and I am still finding oily or sticky patches on my countertops!!

Oh, and as to how this almost ruined dinner. Well, I didn't have enough milk left after the spill to make the cornbread so the husband had to pick some up at 7-11, meaning dinner was very late. Also, I was so distracted that I somehow thought that 1 tablespoon of butter was 30 g. One tablespoon of butter is in fact 14g and so there was WAY too much butter in the rice with beans as well as in the cornbread. It tasted okay, but butter was seeping out of the rice and the cornbread had a rather odd crust.

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Keep it clean, don't be mean....