Thursday, November 10, 2011

Fucking hubris

Hubris is when you've decided to make salted caramel sauce [it's as amazing as it sounds, truly] to go with the homemade dark chocolate triple chocolate chip ice cream that is spinning in your ice cream maker while you are finishing up some freelance work and thinking about what you'll make for dinner tomorrow night [because you do nothing if not plan ahead when you can] [it's probably going to be pasta with sauteed vegetables and some grilled chicken] and think about when you need to get the sides going for dinner tonight [au gratin potatoes and roasted Brussels sprouts] and as you make it, you think, "I've made this 4 or 5 times already and it's never been a pain or a problem or burned me - in fact, it's so fucking easy, I'm going to go into the office and check when my DVDs are due back at the library," only to come back into the kitchen to find that your sugar has burned and stunk up the place, but instead of completely losing your mind [like you did when the pie crust you tried to make for beef pot pie was too wet and it signaled the end of the fucking world], you merely set the pan on the back burner and think, "Big deal, a 1/2 cup of sugar, who cares, I'll start a new pan," and then, because you have OCD which makes it impossible to leave something undone, you think, "I should really empty out that still boiling pot of sugar," and you pour it into the plastic garbage bin liner upon which it completely starts MELTING EVERYTHING and you frantically pull the plastic garbage liner out of the can instead of just taking the can outside because evidently the TOXIC CHEMICALS WHICH HAVE BEEN RELEASED have addled your thinking at which point a 1 centimeter long piece of burnt caramel lands on the edge of your hand, right under your pinky, and then you lose your mind like you did when the pie crust betrayed you, calling your husband in from the outdoors to PLEASE, HURRY, COME HELP, because you are pretty sure you are dying.

Goddamn Greeks and their big ideas.

17 comments:

  1. Burnt sugar is the fucking devil. Don't feel bad - once the sugar burned you never had a chance.

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  2. Seriously, what would Martha Stewart think? Shouldn't you have had a lovely china dish filled with ice water nearby to plunge your hand into for JUST such an emergency?

    Ha ha ha at Martha Stewart. Who could live that way???

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  3. No good comes from entering a kitchen.

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  4. Fuckety fuck fuck fuck!!!! But seriously, you're making the rest of us look bad with your awesome cooking skills anyway, so you were kinda asking for trouble. Just saying.

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  5. It happens to the best of us. I've definitely had similar incidents!

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  6. i like that word hubris, thank you for making me realize i don't nearly use it as much as i should/

    i did not work on my novel today...but i will tomorrow...

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  7. oh OCD, such a fun one. most of the time i'm late because i can stop re-organizing the house to museum quality perfection. it's so exhausting. one time i got a 3rd degree burn because i didn't wait for the pan to cool down before cleaning it. wtf? RELAX, right? nope. never. meds don't even break through my layers of OCD.

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  8. Awfully sorry about your hand but I really only read the piece to get the caramel sauce recipe so quit whining and post it.

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  9. And those damn Greeks have big weddings, too. WTF, Greeks?

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  10. Hahahahaha!!! I'm sorry. That's not funny. It's terrible. My sincerest condolences.

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  11. God, I would be impossibly fat if I lived next door to you. I would be over everyday with a good bottle of wine, begging you to feed me.

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  12. I love hubris.

    It goes great with Brussels sprouts.

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  13. Awful! Nothing worse than melting garbage cans! And ruined salty caramel sauce.

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  14. I have awarded you the Liebster Blog award over at http://www.notwinningmomoftheyear.com Come check it out.

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  15. GAH! Cooking is ruining everything, per usual. Jerk.

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  16. I'd have tipped over into hubris the day I made au gratin potatoes AND roasted brussels sprouts as side dishes. I'm sorry about your injury but am having trouble concentrating because I keep picturing triple chocolate ice cream with salted caramel sauce.

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Every time you comment, I get a lady boner.