Wednesday, March 10, 2004

Some people have the culinary intuition to combine unrelated ingredients into a delicious meal, a feat that I attempted yesterday evening. I fondly recall how one friend mixed a bunch of leftovers into a tasty breakfast bar. A few weeks ago my co-worker painted, in rather tantalizing strokes, a dinner scene wherein his children reveled over Cheez-It chicken while his wife refused to sample any. You probably have similar people in your life, gentle reader.

With move-out day fast approaching, I’ve been trying to empty my pantry to make for an easier move. Around dinnertime I wandered into the kitchen and spied some pasta, an orphaned packet of salsa from a taco kit, frozen broccoli, and various spices and condiments. My dinner certainly began well enough. I brought the water to a boil and shoveled pasta into the wok with fervor, making sure to check on the pasta for optimal firmness. The trouble started when I overlooked this little concept called “defrosting” and emptied half a bag of frozen broccoli into the mix.

It all went downhill after this oversight, let me tell you. Nutritionists and mothers espouse the mighty virtues of broccoli, to which I say, “Broccoli? Brocco this.” The water instantly stopped boiling. My pasta, which previously had been on its way to al dente, suddenly became al just like it came out of the box. I sure as hell wasn’t going to spend any more bottled water on this abomination, so I let my pasta sort itself out.

When the steam had settled, I proceeded to cover up the mess with salsa, Worcestershire sauce, and oregano. I apparently added a little too much Worcestershire. My concoction tasted as nasty as it looked, and to the culinary world it was akin to Wolfgang Puck repeatedly clubbing Julia Child over the head with a George Foreman Grill. An unqualified disaster, to be sure, but if you ever need the recipe for failure, I’ve got it memorized. Bam!