“Jehan observed with a sigh that there was not a single cooking utensil.”—The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo
Fair warning: the recipes on this blog do not undergo extensive testing. I give a recipe a go once—maybe, twice. The reasons?
I’ve already pointed out I’m not keen on
My small stash of quinoa wasn’t bought for twenty do-overs!
And though this girl you’re getting to know has a love of cooking that is
gastronomical astronomical, she has a full plate (sorry—I’m done punning now) and has neither the time nor desire to be finicky. As long as something ends up tasting good, it doesn’t have to be perfect.
Wait . . . that doesn’t mean I’m going to unnecessarily force down a flat brick in place of chowing down on a moist, puffy muffin!
I’m no whiz at pulling measurements out of thin air in the baking department. That requires more of an exact science than mingling up a pot of stew, or chopping up this and that for a salsa fix. Most of the time, I’ll go by a template to give me a general idea of “how much.”
Just wanted to get the particulars straight. Still with me? Good.
From here on out, your palate is in for wacky inventions and additions; substitutions or subtractions (got to work with what’s around); and ingredients lists peppered with “handfuls,” “sprinklings,” “little more thans” . . . well, you get the point.
‘Cause we cooking-for-one-types don’t have to bother with being too precise—yes, baking included.
(Go ahead. Try scaling down a recipe to fewer than two servings . . . divide one-eighth of a teaspoon by twelve. Don’t tell me your mind won’t turn to mush!)
Oh, and in case you missed it or just plain forgot . . .
I’m the amateur-ist of amateurs at photography. My phone doesn’t even have a fancy camera, with it not being a smartphone. (Hey, was that a gasp of shock?)
Fear not. Instead, recipes will contain some choice images and one or more of the following: snappy asides, possible alternatives, and handy advice.
Emphasis on “advice.”
Nope: nothing is set in stone.
Never mind that I plopped in a watery, orange blob . . . squeeze out every drop from those shredded carrots! Possess a tongue that exceeds my fiery endurance? Build a mountain of red pepper flakes! Scoffing at the smidge of honey I added to a “sweet treat”? Pour on a river of sticky goodness! You’ve only got yourself to please.
Now, go. Take yourself into the kitchen and have a blast. Make those changes others will give you weird stares about. I’ve got your back.
Here’s to being inspired to create food rare and out-there.