A Major Flop

Normally if a new fish recipe that I’m trying is a flop, I can at least serve my hubby extra potatoes and veggies.  But last night was a major flop.  I’m talking so big of a flop that it was enough to cover me through the entire month.  (I normally allow myself a certain amount of new-recipe flops each month, but this one probably used up all of this month’s quota… and maybe next month’s too).  Because it was a three-in-one flop.  Oh, yeah.  I’m good.

The Fish:  Tilapia is one of those amazing fishes that can be breaded in a bit of flour, tossed into a pan coated with nonstick cooking spray, and then ‘fried’ for about four minutes until it’s done.  It’s so crazy easy that I guess I thought I had to make it a bit more difficult or something.  I found a baked version of the fish online, which promised to leave you with a moist fish that had the hint of garlic and lemon.  Hint of lemon!?!  I took one bite of the fish and my mouth involuntarily puckered.  For a moment, I had this grand idea of adding sugar and calling it Lemonaid Tilapia.  So sour…So going into the rejection pile.

The Green Beans:  Green Beans are my husband’s favorite vegetable, so I make them often.  Generally, I stick to the same way of cooking them — sautéed in a bit of olive oil.  They always come out perfectly crisp tender.  Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Too easy!  So I found a recipe online (I’m starting to sense a common theme here) and decided to throw together an Asian Green Bean Sautee.  It sounded really good on paper, with its splash of soy sauce, sprinkling of brown sugar, chopped garlic, and half teaspoon of red pepper.  Yes, a half teaspoon of red pepper. I imagine that it was a missprint, but as I was whirling about the kitchen, I didn’t stop to ponder that possibility. I just threw in that pepper.  So needless to say, when I popped a green bean into my mouth to test it, I started choking and gagging.  This recipe should have come with a warning: May cause your throat to explode.

The Sweet Potato:  I couldn’t mess up a sweet potato if I tried.  I poke a couple of holes into it, toss it into the microwave, and let the magic happen while I tend to other things.  So it wasn’t my fault that the middle of the potato was completely rotten. 

Dinner just wasn’t meant to be. 

But you know what?  My husband looked up at me with watering eyes (He wasn’t emotional. He was trying the green beans) and thanked me for making dinner for him.  And that’s all a girl can ask for.

Back to the drawing board!!!

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to A Major Flop

  1. You know, this could potentially be a *good* thing. If you get 3 flops out of the way, it can only mean that there’s good things to come. 😉

  2. youngwifey says:

    Glad you shared your flops, it’s an import part of being a newly wed. Your husband was so kind about dinner, much better than Hubster might’ve been. Hubster used to complain that none of the spicy dishes I made were quite as spicy as he would like, so one day while shaking the red pepper flakes from the container, I accidently dumped half of it in… I didn’t quite realize how spicy it would be…

  3. kate200 says:

    Aaag! Major flops are always so disappointing, as they come as such a surprise, when our dishes are usually successes! I just chalk mine up as learning experiences for “what not to do” – and I also think they are valuable as periodic reminders for our husbands/ significant others that delicious meals are not magically created with a click of our fingers, they take practise – so they should appreciate our successes all the more!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s