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Gettin to Know You June 9


SandraL

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I am not a bad cook, honest! I am not thrilled with the day to day boring family cooking though, and picky kids, etc. But I do like to throw a good party and do some fancy stuff.

I have had many adventures. One of the best ones was when I was going through chemo and radiation last fall. My mother in law was here trying to help. So I was out for most of the day and left her a receipe for a really healthy. sweet potatoes and chicken stew kind of thing...yuck!

So she prepped it all and I got home and she was going out to pick up my daughter. There were just a few last steps to do like add the chicken, etc. So I did those last steps and looked at this lovely concoction and thought it looked a bit runny...not stew like at all. And I remembered I had added some corn starch to a crock pot stew recipe a few weeks back and that would surely be just the trick to rescue this dish.

So I grabbed a box, and dumped a whole bunch in. Geeze...I didn't think corn starch made things bubble up that much...and it kept bubbling away this white frothy stuff. Then I looked at the box I had grabbed to discover of course that it was not corn starch at all, it was BAKING SODA!! Ooops!

Now everyone was going to be home shortly and I had a choice to make. Fess up or blame it on my mother in law who everyone knew was in charge of dinner! I thought about that for awhile and decided to come clean! People actually tried the darn stuff (not me!) because pizza was on the way!

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Nearly raw turkey for Christmas. We moved to San Diego several months before Christmas 40+ years ago. My husband's parents came out (from MN) to spend Christmas with us and see their new grandson (then 3mo. old). First turkey I ever cooked. No idea how long it would take, but did check the cookbook. When it looked done on the outside, I served it. It was pretty much raw and we didn't eat it. The side dishes were wonderful, though.

Muriel

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My husband does most of the cooking now but I wasn't bad in my day. Truth is, though, I was an awesome baker. To this day, I'd rather make dessert than dinner. Probably because I'd rather eat dessert than dinner.

Judy in Key West

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"Sis"]I actually cooked a canned ham..........without taking it out of the can. OK, it was over 30 years ago, but that story still follows me around. I'm a little better now. Ellie

That is hilarious...Reminds me of the time I put a frying pan in the microwave :shock:

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AAAAALLLLLL Right!! Ya'll got a few good Laughs cause I can't relate with 2 Associates in Culinary Arts I got Nothing!!! THANKS THOUGH!!!!!!

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This isn't really my story. It's Larry's and my story.

Picture this: First anniversary. Pork chops on the grill, baked potatoes with butter and sour cream, corn and a luscious Schwartzwalder Kirschtorte for dessert. And a bottle of champagne.

Honey, those chops are almost perfect. Pop the cork on that champagne! Pretty bubbles, makes us amorous.....

Oh, no! The pork chops! Run out to the grill. Bummer, cremated those suckers! Not even the bones are left.

So, a lovely dinner: baked potatoes with butter and sour cream, corn, a luscious Schwartzwalder Kirschtorte, and half a bottle of semi-flat champagne.

Mmmm...

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My husband still teases me every time I make a meatloaf (and I USUALLY) make a mean one! But this time I added the eggs, some breadcrumbs, patted and shaped it, and stuck it in the oven. About 45 minutes later, my husband looks at the counter to see the UNOPENED bag of meatloaf mix sitting there. So - we had a HUGE hamburger for dinner.

Patti B

P.S. - My mom tells the story of her first thanksgiving married to my dad - she left the neck and giblets in the turkey still wrapped in the paper - YUM!!

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I know a few people that has left everything in the turkey.

I tried baking some nice blueberry muffins years ago. I mixed all the ingredients together, put it in the pan and placed it in the oven. After the appropriate elapsed time I opened the oven door. It didn't say anything in the directions that you were supposed to get 24 muffins and you only partially filled each place in the pan ! I filled 4 cups to the top. They rose so much that they went around the top rack in the oven and I had to cut them in half to get the pan out.

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Muriel. I hate to admit this one, but you reminded me of my first turkey. I was living on my own and invited my sister over to help host my dad and my "evil" stepmother for a turkey dinner.

Well, I didn't have any of those turkey "sproinger" things (I think Randy would know what the correct term is, but the things to fold the part over with the stuffing and get everything all tucked in.). So, I did have a number of very unused clean sewing needles that I thought would do the same trick. So we inserted many of those, same technique of course involved that I had watched my mom do for many years.

Well that turkey cooked up just beautifully, but when we went to carve it we could not find any of those darn needles. So, we didn't say a thing and just went through with dinner and watched very cautiously as we all ate. To this day I have never said a thing to my dad or his wife.

I must have a cruel streak when it comes to stepmother's and MIL's!

I can cook an awesome turkey dinner now, honest, but I bet you none of you would accept an invite to my place for Canadian Thanksgiving!

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Doesn't reflect my cooking skills but I had a memory to share...

In my early 30s, I invited several work friends over for dinner- I had just finished a relationship and it was the first time I had people over as a 'single' person. I made a huge tray of lasagna and had it sitting on the counter.

My cat, who was almost a year at the time, took interest in the overhead fan that I had put on in the dining area for the first time that spring. Before I knew it, I heard a noise and there was Casey hanging on one of the ceiling fan blades with his front paws, body at a 45 degree angle, spinnign around and around like he was on that giant swing at an amusement park. I panicked - I didn't know whether to shut the fan or try to grab him as he rotated by, but he was going too fast.

Well, before I could decide how to help him, in what seemed like slow motion, I saw him flying through the air and yes, you guessed it, he landed smack in the middle of the lasagna like a pole vaulter landing in a sand pit. He was fine, other than covered with sauce, but before I could even figure out how long it would take to smooth out an impression of a cat in a pan of lasagna with a spatula 8) , I heard footsteps on the stairs. Needless to say, we had pizza delivered.

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