Another episode of the totally apolitical, areligious How Not to Produce Edible Food

[djmcmath]

It's been some time since my last episode; I've been too busy to spend much time in the kitchen (aside from making espresso, a holy and time-honored tradition). I did, however, make time to not make chocolate cheesecake the other night. You'd think that something like this would afford many great opportunities, but I was remarkably challenged. There are, of course, the obvious things -- remember to bump the stove door up into your arms, forget that you've added something, then add it again to make sure, don't pre-heat the oven, etc.

But that's not what this publication is about. The purpose is to share the truly colossal tricks of the trade. Once again, please don't try this at home; your host is a trained expert, a bachelor who has been carefully screwing up fine dishes for many years. With no further ado, here's the secrets of how not to produce edible food:

1. Start the procedure normally. Pull out the recipe, read it carefully, ensure you have all the ingredients before you begin. One minor change is in order -- ensure that you have almost enough time, but not quite enough, to finish the entire recipe. It also helps to have something else on your mind, though if you're absent-minded like me, you may be able to do this correctly without a distraction.

2. Mix all* of your ingredients together in the mixing bowl. Kitchen-Aid makes a great mixer, with speeds ranging from "Is it really moving?" to "Throw your food around the room." Experiment some, and spend too much time at the highest setting to ensure that your mix is a little low due to spinning much of it out of the bowl. This also ensures a suitable mess for your room-mate to curse you for later, as cheesecake mix forms a substance not entirely unlike concrete when it dries naturally. (*Footnote: By "all," I don't mean "all," in the normal sense, of course. This "all" actually means "most." Select two items from the list, any two, as long as they're critical to the proper operation of a chocolate cheesecake, and leave these out entirely. Sugar works great, for example. Some amateurs may attempt, at this point, to merely mismeasure them. One such case would be the classic "dish of salt" touch, in which the recipe called for a "dash," but the chef was unfamiliar with this term, assumed it was a typo, and added a "dish" instead. This mistake, while truly colossal in magnitude, will be insufficient for this case.)

3. Set up the pie-crusts neatly in their pre-package store-bought aluminum-foil shells. Lay them out on the counter in preparation for pouring, because you're anal-- I mean organized. Note, as you lay them out, that you have just exactly enough to get through the recipe. You have been wise with your money and not purchased any extras.

4. Pour the mix into the pie-crust-shell-thingies. Notice that the mix doesn't look quite like you're used to. Write it off because it's been a while since you've done this recipe, and you've probably forgotten what it looked like last time. Without worry, place the cheesecake/pies in the oven.

5. Wait 5 minutes. Occupy your time by preparing for whatever it is that you'll be late for when you run out of time to make chocolate cheesecakes. Or go stand out on the porch admiring the view, thinking about whatever it is that's occupying your mind. But for at least 5 minutes, it's critical that you not remember our special definition of "all."

6. After 5 minutes, wonder quietly to yourself whether or not you added these two ingredients. Sugar? Did I add sugar? Go back into the kitchen and review the recipe, then look through the dirty dishes to see if one of them looks like it had sugar on it. Nope, no sugar. Wonder for a brief moment whether or not it will work out without sugar at all, then give up on this train of thought -- only rank amateurs intentionally leave out critical ingredients in order to produce inedible food -- you're above that!

7. Immediately remove the cheesecakes from the oven; it's best to be a bit panicky at this point. Wonder quietly if the cheesecake-substance is too cooked to mix in sugar already ... test the softness of the cheesecake material with a readily available thermal probe, say your finger. Note that, while the cheesecake mixture is now sticky like napalm, it is also incredibly hot. Wash your finger in cold water, though if you're really spiffy, you will have remembered to run some hot water only moments before, so the first batch of water over your finger is still 140F. Decide based on this totally objective and scientific test that it is far too late to add the missing ingredient.

8. Despite the test of #7, pour the cheesecake mix from the pie-crust back into the mixing bowl in preparation for adding the missing ingredient. Discover that pie-crust is adhered to the inside of the pie-crust pan with absolutely nothing, and so is far more apt to stick to the cheesecake mix than it is to stay in the pan. Forget about this small trivial fact until after you've turned the pan upside-down over the mixing bowl.

9. Before adding sugar, spend 15 minutes picking pie-crust pieces out of the mix. Attempt to recover pieces whole; fail. Attempt to piece the pie-crust back together. Fail. Declare it "good enough," and continue.

10. Add one of the two ingredients that you forgot to add in step 2. You should now have all of the ingredients in and mixed, by which I still mean most. The remaining ingredient, once again, must be critical. Completely forget about this ingredient.

11. Pour the fresh mix into the badly mangled remnants of pie-crust. Curse yourself for your "wisdom" of step #3 as you realize quietly to yourself that you've created a real masterpiece of ineptitude. Console yourself in the fact that nobody will notice that the pie-crust is mangled...

12. Put the cheesecake back into the stove. Wait 5 minutes, as before. Recall, in a panic, the final ingredient. Open the stove to discover that the cheesecake is fully cooked.

13. At this point there are several options. The truly inept would press on, attempting still to mix in the final ingredient. Depending on your selection of missing ingredients from step #2, you may still be able to produce inedible food this way. Alternately, it may already be thoroughly inedible. The wise man might seriously consider enjoying a beer while watching his dog eat the pie.

I hope you've thoroughly enjoyed this episode of How Not to Produce Edible Food, for The Culinarily Inept. Be safe, cook poorly!

[911ctS]

LOL ROTF!! That was classic, can't wait for the next episode.

[Isabo]

My daughter's cheesecake recipe.
Broken biscuits on bottom of tray. Pour jam on top to hold together. Fill tray with mascarpone. Put in fridge. sprinkle with a little ground coffee and grated chocolate. Serve with some sliced strawberries, kiwis, rasperries on top.
I hope her future husband or mother-in-law can teach her to cook. I failed.

[Drago]

Good times...good times...

[djmcmath]

Oooh, Isa, that recipe makes me nauseous to read ...

BTW, speaking of coffee -- I finally took everybody's advice and upgraded to a Gaggia Espresso and Solis Maestro Plus. Still not perfect espresso, but noticeably better, and way easier to burn myself on the full-size chromed-brass portafilter.

Dan

[Isabo]

Originally posted by djmcmath
Oooh, Isa, that recipe makes me nauseous to read ...
Dan

Oh it's not quite as bad as it sounds!