Post by Demona on Mar 24, 2010 14:23:24 GMT -5
I had a friend over for the weekend, and we cooked lots of food. Sure he knows how, but he can't make it as good as a restaurant, despite what he says.
For example, there were chicken wings he made three at a time in a small deep fryer he brought. It took forever, because oh no, they can't touch! The hot sauce for the wings was another story entirely. We were at the store the day before, and he bought various hot peppers, and had a bag full of dried chillis from home. I told him not to go overboard on it, and had been ignored. He poured two sauces mixed together in the blender, and then the peppers.
Three hours later when all the food was done, I tried one chicken wing. It was spicy, but I wasn't running to the fridge for water just yet. No, it took five of those things for me to run to the freezer, take out a couple ice cubes, and suck on them. My face was burning. I was mad! Like, Hello? What did I tell you earlier not to do?
Then the next night, I was really tired and not feeling good so I went to bed early. I didn't sleep much before that really. While I was trying to sleep he was attempting hamburgers in a pan on the stove. The way he does it involves cheese and a bunch of seasoning inside the meat, and the meat is really thick. His first batch fell apart, he made them wrong. There went a pound of our ground beef. He called his gradma, or aunt, or whoever, and got the right recipe, and tried again. He woke me up, and I ate. It was good, but not like a restaurant.
The next morning he woke up late, and told me he ran to the bathroom to chunder in the middle of the night. Gee, dinner must not have agreed. He blamed the cooking oil. I was fine on the other hand.
Before he went home, there was a recipe I wanted to try. It was just sliced chicken in an Indian sauce from an import store. I practically had to fight with him not to add mixed vegetables in it, since I could tell from tasting the sauce it wouldn't go together. I wanted to keep the rice plain too, but he mixed chicken soup base in it which I think made it crunchy. Anyway, the main dish was good, but nothing special. Like sloppy joe sauce really. Better on a sandwich than like it was. I told my dad not to save the rice.
Experimenting like that can be fun, but getting too daring doesn't go over with everyone. I think I'll stick to the stuff I know, or order out the next time he's over.
For example, there were chicken wings he made three at a time in a small deep fryer he brought. It took forever, because oh no, they can't touch! The hot sauce for the wings was another story entirely. We were at the store the day before, and he bought various hot peppers, and had a bag full of dried chillis from home. I told him not to go overboard on it, and had been ignored. He poured two sauces mixed together in the blender, and then the peppers.
Three hours later when all the food was done, I tried one chicken wing. It was spicy, but I wasn't running to the fridge for water just yet. No, it took five of those things for me to run to the freezer, take out a couple ice cubes, and suck on them. My face was burning. I was mad! Like, Hello? What did I tell you earlier not to do?
Then the next night, I was really tired and not feeling good so I went to bed early. I didn't sleep much before that really. While I was trying to sleep he was attempting hamburgers in a pan on the stove. The way he does it involves cheese and a bunch of seasoning inside the meat, and the meat is really thick. His first batch fell apart, he made them wrong. There went a pound of our ground beef. He called his gradma, or aunt, or whoever, and got the right recipe, and tried again. He woke me up, and I ate. It was good, but not like a restaurant.
The next morning he woke up late, and told me he ran to the bathroom to chunder in the middle of the night. Gee, dinner must not have agreed. He blamed the cooking oil. I was fine on the other hand.
Before he went home, there was a recipe I wanted to try. It was just sliced chicken in an Indian sauce from an import store. I practically had to fight with him not to add mixed vegetables in it, since I could tell from tasting the sauce it wouldn't go together. I wanted to keep the rice plain too, but he mixed chicken soup base in it which I think made it crunchy. Anyway, the main dish was good, but nothing special. Like sloppy joe sauce really. Better on a sandwich than like it was. I told my dad not to save the rice.
Experimenting like that can be fun, but getting too daring doesn't go over with everyone. I think I'll stick to the stuff I know, or order out the next time he's over.
