So, today's post is a little bit different. A few weeks ago, a major catastrophe happened within my family. It was quite tragic. If I dwell upon it too much, it sends a cold shiver down my spine. To make sure you avoid such a tragedy, here's what NOT to do:
Never let my brother and sister cook together. There's bound to be trouble.
Never, under any circumstances, should my brother be allowed to cook spaghetti. It's his curse.
The pot of water is on the stove, waiting to boil. The meat is cooked. The sauce, however, is up to no good. So NEVER add these ingredients together:
1 can tomato sauce
Seems like a pretty basic recipe, right? WRONG!
Though I had nothing to do with the making of the sauce, I am partly to blame for not being present for the 20 minutes it took my siblings to ruin everything. I walked upstairs into the kitchen. It seemed like an ordinary night. Ordinary people making an ordinary meal. And then I learned the truth. My brother and sister were talking about the sauce and what they did wrong. To fully understand what was happening, I did something either very brave or very foolish - I tasted the sauce.
It was possibly one of the worst things I had ever tasted. It stung my mouth. It burnt my throat as I swallowed it. I closed my eyes and shook my head as if that would get rid of the taste. I asked them what they had done to ruin such a beautiful sauce. I listened as they told me the ingredients. Nothing sounded out of the ordinary. So I took it upon myself to pull everything out that they had used and smelled it. The can of tomato sauce smelled fine. I even ran my finger on the inside of the can to taste it. It tasted fine too. So did the tomato paste. I know the salt and pepper were fine. The oregano and basil also smelled fine. Last I opened the jar of minced garlic form the fridge. It was the most putrid stench my poor nose ever encountered.
My brother confessed that it was his idea to use the minced garlic, quickly blaming my sister for putting it in the sauce though. When I asked how much she added, she said, "a lot." That was it. I don't know why it smelled so bad or tasted so bad, but it did. I quickly searched online how to hide the garlic flavor. We added A LOT of parsley. It helped immensely. But it was still nasty. We called my mom twice. We added more parsley. We added parmesan cheese. We added some sugar. It was too sweet. We added some red wine vinegar.
Did it taste good now? Compared to what we started with - yes, yes it did. Was it good though, without the comparison? No. It was not. I suggested to dump it and start over. It didn't seem like a good idea to waste all of that precious meat. But no one listens to Nessa. My brother goes ahead and adds the sauce to the meat. He tastes it again and admits that "We should have probably just dumped it out." BOOM! Now he says that. Oh well. We all eat it anyway because that's what was for dinner.
My sister actually said, "It's pretty good," to which my brother responded with, "You only think that because you've already ruined your tastebuds at this point."
When my sister-in-law came home, she tasted it and asked what happened. Everyone was a little bit embarrassed to tell her, but tell her we did. She ate noodles with cheese and butter on them, finally asking a question that none of us had thought about: was the minced garlic expired. I truthfully told her that I was afraid to check because I had already eaten my share. As my sister and I get up to do the dishes, my brother starts complaining about the horrible taste left in his mouth. I asked him not to talk about it.
The three of us decided the best way to end the meal was with a few Oreo's to wash it all down. Oreo's make everything better. Thus ended another ordinary day.