I can’t cook. Last night proved that my place is most definitely NOT in the kitchen. Granted, 2 nights ago I made a pretty darn amazing beef stew, but what did I actually do? I bought the meat already deboned and cubed, I bought a pre cubed and diced soup mix of sweet potato, butternut, onion and coriander, and a stew mix powder packet for flavour. I tossed it all into a pot for 2 hours and boom! Stew! Not much thought or effort or anything really went into it.
Last night (our end of the month salti-crax is happening now, in the middle of the month) I looked at my empty cupboards, and decided to make pasta. Great. Pasta. Pasta and… I didn’t have enough cheese to make mac and cheese, so I decided that I’d make a white sauce to go with the pasta, and then I’d sprinkle some cheese on top of each of our pasta once I’d served it. When the pasta was cooked, I decided to start my white sauce, as it apparently only takes 7 or so minutes. 15 minutes on, there was no coming back from my disaster. Thank goodness for husbands who know their way around a kitchen, and a wife who knows when to just step away from the stove!
I had even looked up ‘basic white sauce’ in my recipe book, as I didn’t even know HOW to make a white sauce. Yes, my head is hung in shame. Moving on.
I weighed out equal portions of butter and flour, and measured out the required amount of milk. 3 ingredients. Not 30, just 3. Not even I could stuff this up. The recipe book said that I must make a ‘roux‘ which is supposed to be like a paste. Mine looked like mini dough balls. And YES, I stirred the entire time that I added the flour to the melted butter. I didn’t however sieve the flour slowly into the butter whilst mixing it. I just tossed the entire amount of flour into the melted butter and stirred. And got mini dough balls. *side note – as I’d never made white sauce or even a roux before, I had no clue as to whether or not what I was looking at was correct, so I continued.*
Now the recipe said to slowly add the milk (which I had
boiled brought to simmering point) to the roux. Well the milk was in my pot, and the roux (at least my attempt at a roux) was in a frying pan. There was no way that it would all fit into the frying pan. So I just tossed my mini dough balls roux into the simmering milk. And stirred. And stirred. And whisked. And stirred. And whisked. My milk went a kind of beige colour, but the dough balls were still present. So I whisked harder. And longer. I even took a wooden spoon and smooshed the balls up against the side of the pot to try and break them down. After 15 minutes I yelled for the husband. He came downstairs, looked inside the pot, and then looked at me.
“There’s no coming back from this, is there.” I asked, rhetorically.
He at least had the decency to blush WITH me. Within 10 minutes, he had the perfect, and I mean PERFECT white sauce simmering on the stove. I just looked at him with disgusted awe. He did say that he was also a bit surprised at how well his white sauce came out, but I think that he was just trying to make me feel better. Perfect medium consistency, not a single tiny lump, and when I added the garlic salt it perfected the perfect sauce.
At least the pasta wasn’t burnt. You can’t mess up pasta can you?
I overcooked it.