I cook a lot of pretty delicious home run food, but now and again, I strike out. Each time I strike out, I learn something. Last night was one of those strikeouts. Ugh!
I bought a pineapple last week and wanted to make a Polynesian dinner. In my head, I wanted to make marinated colossal shrimp and veggie skewers, coconut-crusted crab cakes with a dipping sauce, and Hawaiian coleslaw. Sounds good, right?
As I prepped my dinner, I tasted everything along the way. My marinade, dressing for the coleslaw, and the dipping sauce was all good. The crab cake mixture tasted better than I thought. I practiced my knife skills…precision cuts, and speed. Everything was going to plan.
I skewered the shrimp and veggies and got them ready for the grill. I quickly pan-fried the crab cakes and finished them in the oven. Tossed the coleslaw and poured the dipping sauce for the crab cakes into small individual bowls.
Everything smelled delicious, but the meal wasn’t good. The shrimp became mushy from the marinade, which has never happened before, but I never used this type of marinade before. Now I won’t again.
The Hawaiian coleslaw sucked along with the dipping sauce for the crab cakes. The sauce was fine on its own but was too heavy for the crab cakes. Dammit! The coconut-crusted crab cakes on their own were good, at least.
No one said anything at the table except that the crab cakes were good. I always try to take Julia Child’s advice to never apologize for a bad meal. Here’s what Julia says:
“I don’t believe in twisting yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make. When one’s hostess starts in with self-deprecations such as “Oh, I don’t know how to cook…,” or “Poor little me…,” or “This may taste awful…,” it is so dreadful to have to reassure her that everything is delicious and fine, whether it is or not. Besides, such admissions only draw attention to one’s shortcomings (or self-perceived shortcomings), and make the other person think, “Yes, you’re right, this really is an awful meal!” Maybe the cat has fallen into the stew, or the lettuce has frozen, or the cake has collapsed — eh bien, tant pis! Usually one’s cooking is better than one thinks it is. And if the food is truly vile, as my ersatz eggs Florentine surely were, then the cook must simply grit her teeth and bear it with a smile — and learn from her mistakes.”
While we were eating breakfast, Marty said, “Don’t get mad, but I have to be honest about something.” I always know what that means. Marty told me, “Dinner last night wasn’t very good.” No shit Sherlock! I agreed with everything that he said.
I cook dinner almost every single day and know any cook can have an off day. Yesterday was mine. I move on and don’t let it bother me anymore. I learned from the bad meal, and thankfully I never try new shit out on company; I think I learned that piece of advice from Ina Garten. Trying new recipes out on family or friends is fine, and you’ll get their honest feedback.
My feedback last night…Your meal sucked, Julz. Another lesson learned on my cooking journey. Aloha! 🌺