Maybe I got a little overconfident about my skills in the kitchen. Maybe it was the universe coming back to teach me a little humility. Get my hubris under control.
Last week, when we got our CSA box, I was crazy-excited about making kale chips. While I was at it, I thought I would try my hand at beet chips, since the family is all "Borscht, again?", and in so, doing a re-enactment of the Great Gazpacho Rebellion of 1996. While I normally don't give in to the demands of foodie agitators, a little of Jasmin 2009 peeked out and decided to try something new.
(I have this habit of making something, loving it, eating it, and then continuing to make it through the appropriate season. For the record, both my Borscht and Gazpacho are legen-wait for it... - dary.)
For the record, the borscht is so good that when I offered my nephew some, and rattled off the ingredients list, he made a Face. I said, "I know it sounds like a giant fart in a bowl, but I promise, it's super good." He agreed.
So, I got out the ingredients and Mandy (the mandolin, who came and gave without taking), Mom helped with the prep, we fired up Sybil (the oven, who can't decide whether she's running hot or cold), and we got started.
Some of the chips worked out well, but the overall issue was that we had too much on each baking sheet at a time. (We also had a tall, dark, and handsome saboteur, who ultimately destroyed them all with his negativity and need for counter space.)
Failure is not a great motivator for me. I may have shunned the kitchen since the Chip Incident. However, given the fact that we still need to eat, and prepare a nutritious low-sodium diet for Mom, abandoning the kitchen was Not An Option. We had the ingredients for Romanesco Cauliflower Pasta, so last night, I did the prep for Andrew (the tall, dark, and handsome saboteur, if there was any question) to put together the meal.
(I'm training for the Ravelympics, and that yarn isn't going to spin itself. Division of labor is the only way for a modern-day Ravelete to compete.)
I pounded through the prep (Look, Mom! I'm mincing!), and spun while Andrew cooked. The meal turned out incredibly, and now? I'm all excited about cooking again.
Now, we'll just see if I can finish my yarn in time for the Ravelympics. I'm 3 oz away (I think) from finishing my singles.