Cooking Failures

Tag: failures

  • Boobs Hold Up Shirts!?!?

    You know those memes where the person says things like, “Trying to decide when someone asks me how many siblings I have if I should just lie and give an easy answer?” Well, my family is kind of like that.

    I have a hip little fashionista sister who’s 24 years old. I know, she’s not even half my age yet. Don’t ask – that will be a blog post for another time. She recently bought a house and my cousin Laurie – who is pretty much, more or less the same age as I am – and I decided to help her on her moving day.

    We got tasked with unpacking all of her clothes and putting them in her closet. I pulled the clothes out of the bag, put them on hangers and handed them to my cousin who organized them nicely in the closet. Laurie was much better suited for that job than me. I couldn’t even figure putting the clothes on the hangers most of the time.

    OK – I’m over 50 years old and I wear clothes. I’d like to think that I understand how clothes work. After all, I’ve been wearing clothes for over 50 years. I have a closet full of clothes. I have bought clothes. I wear clothes. I wash clothes. I wouldn’t call myself a clothes expert, but at least I thought I understood clothes.

    But wowey! After this experience, I think I need to go to clothes school so I can understand clothes. Do they have a clothes school? Clothing 101? Clothing for Dummies? There must be a book like that out there somewhere.

     I’m pretty sure I learned the basics in kindergarten or first grade – like, a shirt goes on your body, pants go on your legs, socks go on your feet – that kind of stuff. I thought I knew all that stuff. Isn’t it just like life to be like, “Oh, you thought you knew something as simple as clothes?  Well, here you go! One more thing you know nothing about!”

    The older I get I realize I don’t know much. But I thought I at least had clothes figured out.

    As we started our clothes unpacking task, I was able to pull out some clothes that I could recognize. Here’s a t-shirt… I know what to do with that. I know how to put that on a hanger.

    But, as we got deeper into the bag, I pulled out articles of clothing and I literally had no idea.

    Is this a skirt?
    – me (holding it up to my waist)

    No, it’s a shirt.
    -Laurie

    What?!??? How does it stay up?!!
    -me

    Boobs. Wouldn’t work for you.
    -Laurie

    Can’t you also wear it as a skirt too? 
    -me

    No.
    -Laurie

    The next one, I was turning all sorts of different ways. Then I was very convinced that it was completely missing the front. Laurie calmly informed me that was the back, not the front.

    “So, it’s completely missing the back???” I asked Laurie. She very calmly said, “Yes.” I was baffled. “But… what if your back gets cold?”

    The next one I pulled out was totally missing a whole arm! Manufacturing issue or something? They just forgot to put a whole arm on? Don’t you think my sister would’ve noticed that when she bought it and then bought one WITH an arm?

    When I started going off about how irresponsible that was of the company that made it and that it was probably made in China, Laurie interrupted me and said, “It’s supposed to be that way.” 

    It’s supposed to only have one arm? Why would anyone want an arm on only one side? Are there people who are like, “My right arm is always so much hotter than my left arm. I really want a shirt that only covers one arm? Oh, and is it like, reversible? If your left arm feels like being cold on a Monday, you could wear it that way, and then you could totally flip it on Wednesday when your right arm is cold? 

    It didn’t make any sense to me, and I had a really really hard time trying to figure out how to put it on the hanger because it only had one arm hole. But then Laurie showed me these cool little clear plastic things that are inside and their whole purpose is to hang things on a hanger that don’t hang well!

    What??? How did I never know that? I’ve had dresses with those things and when I put them on, they’re all hanging out and looking all awkward, so I just ripped them off. I never stopped to think about what they are really for. Sounds like something I would’ve Googled, though. I Google everything. I guess I’ve just been busy.

    Then I pulled out a cute little leotard. Oh, does my sister take ballet? I used to have the cutest leotards when I was little. But wait… this leotard barely covers the butt cheeks.  Do you wear underwear under this?  And are those snaps? Like a baby’s onesie? And do those snaps feel cold on your….  area? Are these things machine washable? I ask Laurie all of these questions while looking at my sister’s cute little leotard… completely confused.

    Once she has stopped laughing, Laurie Informs me that these are absolutely not leotards. They are called bodysuits and people wear them so their shirt stays tucked in.  But they are not even wearing a shirt? And who wants their shirt tucked in? Nobody tucks shirts in anymore. We haven’t done that since the 80s when we would tuck them in and bubble them out and have them match our double pairs of socks. Nobody tucks shirts in these days. And that’s not even a shirt!

    She also tells the that you don’t wear underwear underneath them, and, when I ask, “Isn’t it uncomfortable?” she just kind of shrugs. She says you probably can’t feel the snaps and she’s sure they’re machine washable.

    But then I pull out one with chain-link straps and sequins all over and say, “This one’s definitely not machine washable. You’ve got to wear underwear under that one, right???” Laurie just says, “dry cleaning.” I can probably count on one hand the amount of times I have gotten something dry cleaned.

    I pull out another one and, now I think I’m so smart, so I say, ”Oh, I know this one. It’s one of those one sleeve ones.”

    And Laurie says, “No, that is a halter. It has no sleeves.” Then, when she showed me, it made perfect sense and I couldn’t believe I didn’t see it. 

    I would also pull things out of the bag and, although I wasn’t extremely confident what they were, I would play it off like I knew what I was doing, and I would hang them on the hanger and hand them to Laurie.

    She would laugh and proceed to take it off the hanger because it was on upside down or sideways and hang it on the correct way.

    After that, I didn’t even pretend to know what I was doing. I would just pull a shirt out hold it this way, that way or that way, until Laurie nodded once it was right side up.

    How does she know all this stuff??? She must be a genius! Am I supposed to just know this stuff since I am a woman? Is there something wrong with me?

    The next item made NO sense. Three holes in this article of clothing! 3 different size holes. Two very large. I couldn’t figure this one out to save my life. I kept turning it around and putting my arms or head in different holes to see if it would make any sense. I think this one might have even stumped Laurie at first, although she tried to play it off. You know what? It probably didn’t stump her and I’m just pretending it might have stumped her to make myself feel better. 

    How can I be SO confused about today’s clothing? Is this what they are selling in stores these days?!? How do people just know how to wear these things? Oh! It must be on a mannequin! That would make sense. If I saw this clothing on a mannequin, I would maybe probably be able to put them on correctly. Just maybe probably though.

    Oh, that would be a cool game show! Have three women in separate rooms and give them the same article of clothing and see who can figure out how to put it on properly! And time them! And the cameras will be watching the women trying to figure them out. That sounds hilarious. I would totally lose.

    I don’t know. Maybe I need to up my game. If I ever do buy new clothes, it’s mostly just off of Amazon and it’s a t-shirt or a dress which is shown on the model, so I easily know how to wear it. Also, I think I learned that in kindergarten. 

    Maybe I need to go to the mall or whatever kind of store where they sell these clothes and get myself something different. I’ll get myself something fun. I feel like it might change my life. I am always looking for something to change my life. Like when I got a bread maker.

    But if you see me walking around with my clothes on backwards or upside down or something, please just don’t say anything. Let me feel hip and young.

  • The Bird Lady

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    I know this is a blog about cooking failures, and don’t worry, there are plenty more cooking failures for you all but today can we just talk about birds and birdfeeders? It’s a bit of a success story if you read until the end.

    My mom is one of those crazy bird ladies, in addition to being a crazy cat lady, she has probably at least 7 to 9 birdfeeders in her yard. She has them all hooked up to little pulley systems where she can lower them down to fill it, and then use a pulley to string it back up and hook it with little carabiner clips. It’s really a very complicated system and I don’t even know how she did it. Maybe she’s a secret scientist. Or an inventor. She’s been like this for I don’t know how many years. Every time I go over there, I just think of how much work it is and how much money she spends on birdseed. Never had my heart leapt for joy at the sight of a bird.

    She’s the type of bird person who gets so excited when she sees a (insert your favorite bird here) that you would think she had won the lottery! She has a little app on her phone that recognizes bird calls and last time she visited, she came in from my deck and said, “Oh my goodness! I just heard 38 different kinds of birds in your backyard,” like it was the greatest thing to ever happen in history. (Eye roll) Don’t get me wrong, birds are cute and all but they don’t do it for me. They all sort of look the same. I know, I know, all the real birders are gasping in astonishment and disapproval. I can’t help it, I like what I like. And it’s not birds. I will stop and oooh and ahhh at every dog that passes but birds…. They have never made me stop in my tracks.

    BUT THEN I turned 50.

    Four days before my 50th birthday i was sitting on my couch reading and then I glanced out the window and saw a bird hanging out in my tree. Just an average bird but I immediately stopped what I was doing to stare at the bird. What an incredible creature, I thought. Look at those tiny feet! I had never seen anything cuter! And how soft do those feathers look? If I was a bird I would happily just snuggle with myself and not need this silly stuffed Snoopy I sleep with every night.

    Then, with a desire that I can’t even remember the last time I felt, I NEEDED a bird feeder. Needed one. Like my life depended on it. I hopped on Amazon right away.

    So I ordered a bird feeder. I could hardly wait for it to come. I checked Amazon every 5 minutes it seemed to see when it would be delivered. I was like a kid on Christmas Eve! I could hardly sleep from the excitement of it all. I was going to be a bird lady! A real bird lady! Should I add that to my resume?

    Finally, my bird feeder came. I ripped open the box and admired my beautiful new birdfeeder. I pictured all the little birds with full bellies after hanging out at my birdfeeder. I pictured them telling all their friends and then I would have the best yard ever for birdfeeder parties. Well, other than my mother’s, but she lives 350 miles away. I rushed outside to hang up my new birdfeeder!

    And then I realize that I have no birdseed. Of course, I know you need birdseed to fill your birdfeeder, but I was so wrapped up in the joy of being a bird lady that I forgot to buy birdseed! Where can I get birdseed? Do they have a birdseed store? After some research, I found out they have birdseed at my local Food Lion so I ran out to buy some. And that 10 pound bag lasted about five hours. How in the heck does that much birdseed disappear so quickly? Aren’t birds little? How can they eat 10 pounds of birdseed in five hours? So I ran out to buy some more. And now I just order it with every grocery order. And sometimes I order it on Amazon in between grocery shops.

    But geez, those birds love my cooking! They swarm around my birdfeeder. There are these big black guys who hog all the food and there are tiny little birds standing off to the side, waiting patiently for their turn. So then I decided, well, of course I need another bird feeder for those little birds. I will just very politely tell the big birds and that pesky squirrel that this new birdfeeder is not for them. So I ordered another birdfeeder. And then I ordered another birdfeeder. I absolutely did not need another birdfeeder, but I couldn’t even control my fingers when I went to Amazon and started scrolling bird feeders. Do you know that they have solar ones and at night they light up all cute and pretty so that the birds can find their way to their food when it’s dark outside? Do you know they have stained glass birdfeeders? Who ever thought a birdfeeder could be pretty? It was Like this compulsion, I just couldn’t control my fingers. I did show some self-control, though, and stopped at three birdfeeders. For now.

    Who knew I would have to take a third job to feed all the neighborhood birds? Kidding! Kind of. But it’s totally worth it because as I mentioned in the beginning, this is a blog about cooking and these neighborhood birds love my cooking. They just love my cooking! They eat it all and then they’re just waiting every morning for more of my cooking. Maybe I should’ve been a bird mom. Or maybe I should try feeding my kids birdseed.

  • The Grill That Would Change My Life

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    The grill was going to change my life.  It was completely and totally going to change my cooking game.  Everyone says it is so easy to cook on the grill.  I asked for one for Christmas and had dreams of making perfect burgers and hot dogs.   I imagined myself standing by the grill drinking a beer all nonchalantly flipping my burgers.  I even flipped them about three feet in the air in my imagination and caught them perfectly on the spatula.  I’d flip my hair and smile shyly.  “What? Awe, stop!  That was nothing!” to all the nonexistent imaginary fans watching me grill.  Hey- it’s MY imagination!

    I was going to be one of those people who doesn’t even have to use a meat thermometer.  They just know when the burgers are done.  come on, how do they do that??? It’s like a Spidey sense but for meat.  Do they get a little tingling feeling inside them when the meat reaches the exact temperature.  I’m always running around with my meat thermometer in my apron pocket.  Kidding- I have never worn an apron, but I am surprised that didn’t make it in my fantasy.  I probably should have tried the apron.  That might have made all the difference.  Who knows?  Too late now. Anyway, I always had my meat thermometer handy but this grill, THIS GRILL, was going to change our lives.

    I would take my dog for a walk and smell someone grilling.  That’s going to be us, I’d say to the dog.  She seemed excited.  Remember that she always loves my cooking.

    My brother and I put it together immediately.  We even took pictures with the grill.  Big smiles anticipating all the cooking successes this grill would bring. I got grill utensils in a cute little zip up pouch!  With a handle.  I’d hold it like a briefcase and swing it as I walked out the back door.  “Just going to do some grillin,”  I’d say to no one in particular.  Probably just to the dogs. I had a grill cover too.  I was going to take such good care of that grill. I was going to tuck that cute little grill in every night with that cover and tell him what a good grill he was.  In the mornings, I would pull the cover off and sing, “Good Morning Glory,” from Brighton Beach Memoirs to him.  We were going to be best friends. My grill and I.

    My brother and I right after putting the grill together. Can’t you just see the hope in our eyes?

    The first attempt was burgers.  I aimed too high though. My friend RT has been trying to teach me to cook for 20 years.  He was excited about the grill too. He gave me a great recipe where you put cheese inside the burgers.  It sounded perfect. Almost perfect except that I did not realize to had to mold the burgers closed after you add the cheese. Without this important piece of information, half the burger was falling on the ground or in the grill and cheese was just melted all over the grates.

    Ok, that was too tricky.  We decided to try regular burgers but they were too thick, burned on the outside, raw on the inside. No one ate them. It was a little discouraging, but I was still optimistic.  I’d tackle burgers again later.

    RT tried a fool proof one and gave me a recipe for kebabs on the grill. I made the kebabs like he instructed me to. I loaded the skewers and put them on the grill.  I patted myself on the back and even took a cute little picture of me with my grill.  Then RT texts and asks for a pic of my kebabs.  Already on the grill I text back proudly.  One quick tip, he writes back, if using wooden skewers, put the food tightly next to each other on the skewer to keep it from burning…

     What?!?! I run as fast as lightning to the grill and yank it open and yep…. Parts of the skewers are burned completely, and some have even fallen into the bottom of the grill. Other parts are still burning on the top of the grill.  We will blame that for the disaster that night but if I am being entirely honest, the meat was also burned.  I guess I had not developed the Spidey meat thermometer sense yet.

    That wasn’t the last straw though.  That wasn’t the final grill disaster that made me give up grilling and put all my hope in the air fryer.  The real grill disaster was a doozy.

    There was a grilled chicken recipe that was so easy and so good my friend said.  My family would be so impressed. This one was going to be different. I made the little marinade with olive oil and spices and stuck my chicken in the fridge for a couple hours. I would keep checking on it and asking, “Are you ready to become a delicious meal?” I was trying to bond with the chicken.

    I had the recipe written down, I was feeling confident, I was telling the chicken that he does not intimidate me. I was ready to cook the chicken. I walked outside swinging my cute little grill utensil bag, heated up the grill and I was ready.  I might have even drunk a beer, feeling all smug and confident.

    When the grill was hot, I opened the bag, pulled a piece of chicken out with tongs and plopped it on the grill. There was a little sizzle and a little fire but that’s what grills do I thought, so I just kept going with the rest of the chicken.

    It didn’t take long until there was a lot of fire! A lot!  Huge fire! Fire coming out of the bottom of the grill also! How does fire come out of the bottom of a grill? I was carefully trying to pull the grill out away from the house while it was on fire because I saw the siding slowly melting. I’d pull it towards me inch by inch while turning my face away from the flames and telling myself it was going to be ok.  I was not really believing myself.

    Later, when I retell this story, I have a friend who says.” everybody always says to pull the grill 8 feet from the house!”

    “ Everybody? Who is everybody?” I reply. “I know everybody and I have never heard that!”

    “Humph,’” was my reply. That is what my dog says to me when I say something he doesn’t want to hear. It’s a pretty good line so I’ve started using it. OK, back to the grill being on fire.

    Of course this happened to be the night when my kid had five friends over. They all pop their heads out the back door while I’m pulling this grill away from the house and flames are shooting up and down. They ask if everything is OK. I put on my best smile and say, “yes yes, it’s supposed to be like this.”

    So they go back inside while I keep opening the grill and begging the fire to go down. They popped their heads out again and my son says he thinks that he should probably get the fire extinguisher. I said no no, this is fine. It’s supposed to be like this.

    A minute later he says he’s going to get the fire extinguisher, and I say OK, if it will make you feel better. It’s under the kitchen sink I tell him. Guess what? I have no idea why and I have no idea how this happened, but there is NO fire extinguisher under the sink. There is no fire extinguisher anywhere in the house! I know, how could I be such a terrible cook and not make sure the first thing I have is a fire extinguisher? I really thought there was one under the sink, but I have a feeling that was the house I lived in before.

    My son’s friend Max sticks his head out of the door and asks if I want him to call his dad, who lives across the neighborhood, to bring a fire extinguisher. Once again, I say no no, everything’s fine. It’s supposed to be like that.

    But a minute later, he sticks his head out, sees the flames (that are not listening to me when I beg them to quiet down) and says he’s going to call his parents and I do not object.

    But then, I notice that the fire is going out a little bit. It’s getting better! It’s getting better! The fire listened!! It does not appear that I’m going to burn my house down and my kids, and all their friends also. What a relief!

     I call Max‘s mom, Kellie Borelli and I ask where they are and she says they are on their way over with the fire extinguisher and am I ok? I tell Kellie about it and she says that has happened to her before. She said she actually called the fire department to come out and put out the fire in her grill! When they got there, they told her all she had to do was keep her grill closed. Sorry to throw you under the bus with your cooking failures, Kellie, but I need someone to make me look good at a moment like this. Misery loves company. We all had a good laugh and they ended up turning around because I really didn’t need the fire extinguisher after all. This time.

     Later, I was recapping the story to RT (ready to blame him for me almost setting my house on fire) and he said, “you did shake the oil off the chicken really well before you put it on the grill, right?” I said “no! Why would I do that??? You didn’t tell me to do that??? How am I supposed to know that?” And he says “well, oil, and fire….”

     He says he will be sure to give me more specific instructions from then on. I still blame him.

    This is an actual picture of the actual chicken I was cooking on that day. After the fire died down, I thought I needed a picture to remember it by. Not for use in my blog because who would’ve ever thought I would started a blog about all my kitchen failures.

    That really might’ve been the last time I used the grill. Poor little guy doesn’t even have his cover on anymore. It blew off and I didn’t even feel like putting it back on. The dogs have peed on it and my brother and I used it to drag yard waste across the yard. I’d like to say I’m not giving up on the grill and I’d like to say I’ll be back to the grill, but I probably won’t.

    It’s still on my deck, though, rusted and sad with that first bottle of propane. I was thinking I’d go through a bottle a month with all the grilling I’d be doing. I was budgeting for that! A friend asked me the other day if my grill still even works? I don’t know, but that’s OK! The grill didn’t work out. I think I will buy an air fryer.

    Yes! I can just picture now how successful I will be with an air fryer. I should’ve bought myself an apron for the air fryer. Couldn’t hurt. That’s another post.

    I moved out of that rental house about a month ago. I was nervous that I was going to get charged for the melted siding and I couldn’t even imagine how much that was going to cost. It turns out they didn’t charge me for it. I don’t even know if they saw it! I sure hope my property manager never reads this. My brother says it’s fine and just looks like weather damage but to me it completely looks like melted siding. Yes, I got lucky on one thing, I guess.