Don’t Cry Over Curdled Milk (…oops too late)
Remember how my blog used to be called “Confessions of a Health Counselor”? Well, it’s been a while since I revisited that topic…
Lest you think I am over here in my house enjoying day after blissful day of balance and well-being, eating whole foods being perpetually fit, and smiling to beat the band, let me tell you about last-week Thursday.
I was feeling down about dinner in general. The activities of the week were piling up, my 8mo was having a nursing extravaganza, and I was exhausted.
I wanted to order pizza.
But we have such good food in our house, I knew I should just buck up and cook something with what I had on hand.
Feeling totally uninspired, I was perusing the web for recipes that had similar ingredients to what I had on hand – mainly pasta and arugula.
The Barefoot Contessa saved (okay, not really…read on…) the day (love her!), and I set about making a lemon cream sauce for the pasta.
Now, I’ve spent most of my life avoiding dairy, so it should be no surprise that a lemon cream sauce is not an easy feat for me. We have recently bought part of a cow so that we have access to raw milk. I’m not a huge dairy person, but our share is for the winter, and, well, variety is good, especially when it’s real food. (Plus, have you ever tasted raw milk – it’s delicious!)
So I take out my raw milk and survey the recipe, which calls for heavy cream. I look at the top of the milk – so much cream! So I assume, it’s heavy cream.
Long story short, I mix up the cream and the lemon juice in the pan, turn around, and suddenly I’ve made…what is that?…cheese!! What happened? I hop on Facebook, and within minutes, my friends came to the rescue:
*there’s apparently a difference between the cream on top of the milk and heavy cream
*I didn’t follow the order correctly for putting the ingredients in the pan. Apparently this matters.
So I’m staring at this pan, just sick. Two cups of raw milk (and I’m trying to do the math in my head…I’ve wasted a lot of money right there). Plus, the pasta’s already cooked and it’s 4:30p.
I briefly consider ordering pizza, but just feel downright bad about myself and know that pizza would make me feel worse.
So I pull pesto and shredded zuccini from the freezer & add it to the pasta. But I can still see the cheese curds in my minds eye (and peripheral vision), and I am totally grossed out by the entire dinner.
I sink down in the kitchen and just cry. Literal tears. I’ve ruined dinner. A simple pasta dinner. I can’t even pull it together to make a meal. And now I’m crying about it, which seems even worse, so that makes me cry even harder – here I am, pathetic on the kitchen floor with cheese curds in one pan and a semi-edible pasta in the other.
I pride myself in knowing my way around the kitchen and being able to follow a recipe. Last week, though, I got a little dose of humility and I had to remind myself that’s it’s okay to ruin dinner. I learned something last week about the properties of food – something I wouldn’t have learned if dinner would have been a success.
Maybe next time I ruin dinner I won’t cry over it. But let’s face it, I probably will. Then I’ll pick myself up, learn from my mistakes, and order a dang pizza.
Anyone else ever ruin dinner? Please tell me I’m not alone…