Exciting Moments of February, Day 20
I’m a little obsessed with The Food Network’s Worst Cooks In America. It’s a reality show where crappy home “chefs” compete at boot camp. The finalists wind up cooking some pretty impressing things. The first few episodes make me feel much better about my own cooking. Unlike some of the contestants, I’ve never poisoned friends and loved ones with my cooking. And, unlike one of the contestants, I know it’s not ok to keep meat and dairy on the counter all day.
Basically, I use the show as an ego booster. And full episodes are online, so even non-cable girls like me can watch!
Unfortunately, I may have more in common with the contestants than I’d like to admit.
I had President’s Day off work, so I decided to flex my domestic goddess muscles (*flex*) and use my Crockpot. I found what appeared to be a delightful recipe, and I went to work. I should have been tipped off when it didn’t really smell that great at first. But, I’m an optimist — I figured it’d smell great after cooking for many hours.
Wrong, I was.
I sampled. It wasn’t horrible. It just wasn’t good.
So, I did what any normal person would do — I packed a container of the “stew” for my lunch. I’d have to eat it because I’d be trapped at work with no other food!
Except I was sad after lunch. A sad lunch doesn’t equal a happy Laura.
So, I decided to cook something from my tried and true cookbook — the Veganomicon. One of the contestants had extreme issues pronouncing tofu (toe-foo) and said two-f00 about one million times. The contestant also tried to melt the two-foo by mushing it with a spat-ur-la (yeah, she mispronounced that, too).
I took inspiration from this moment and made braised tofu. I didn’t mush it with a spatula. And it was totally yummy when it came out of the oven.
BUUUUT — I soon noticed that the bottoms of my tofu pieces were a little shiny. The shine seem to match…the bottom of the baking sheet.
I. ATE. PAN. (and it tasted pretty good)
Tomorrow, I shall go to my local hardware store and buy a cast iron pan.
Unless I’ve poisoned myself with pan.
I guess I had panflakes on Fat Tuesday instead of pancakes.