Substitutions
It used to be that when I was cooking and I was missing an ingredient, it was a complete deal-breaker.
When I first started cooking for myself, I was a disaster in the kitchen. From almost burning down my apartment with tater tots to messing up frozen pierogies and instant Stove-Top stuffing, I had a hard time making food. I had a small repertoire of dishes that I could handle - usually - and outside of them I was useless.
Then I got married. While I railed against the "traditional" roles for men and women, and plonq is actually a rather fine cook, I wanted to be able to cook for my new husband. There's something primal about being able to give your loved one something delicious that you made yourself. After a few false starts, including a melted creme pie and undone bruchetta (I assumed that the oven's readout was in Celcius), I buried myself in a "we know you're an idiot, but here's how to cook anyway" cookbook that I got as a shower gift.
That night I made parmesan chicken with twice-baked potatoes made from scratch. And it was good.
Buoyed by my success, I started trying other dishes: rosemary pork tenderloin, chicken stew with dumplings, spanish rice. But I was still terrified of deviating from the recipe. I didn't know enough about how flavors and ingredients interacted to try messing with the dishes I was preparing. If I was making something and forgot an ingredient while shopping, I either had to go get the ingredient or try something else.
I don't know when that changed. Gradually, though, I started to pick up on patterns in the recipes. Watching Plonq cook helped too - his rather seat-of-his-pants method of cooking seemed awfully scary to me, but things always seemed to work out for him. So I began experimenting. I would try a different ingredient here, or use a slightly different cooking technique there. Over the years, my cooking fu grew to the point where if I'm missing one or two things, I can usually come up with something close to substitute it with. (Not much you can do, though, if you're making chicken parmesan and forget the chicken... Unless you have some veal or tofu on hand.)
Today, while making up a shopping list, I went over the recipe for the stew I was planning on making tonight. I must have been distracted, though, because I completely skipped the first half of the ingredient list. So after I came home and start assembling my ingredients, I found that I was missing onions and mushrooms.
Damnit.
It's really cold outside now, so I was loathe to go back out. So I looked around. I found some dehydrated onion flakes, which would be a good onion stand in. But mushrooms. Hmm. We didn't have any canned. I considered using the frozen zucchini, but I worried that it would end up too mushy.
So, I tossed in a can of water chestnuts. Whatever. I also added some old dried up rice we had in the fridge, and a few bay leaves. Because stew needs bay leaves.
Plonq should be home soon. The bread is almost done baking, and the stew smells wonderful. Even if it doesn't taste like the version in the recipe, I'm sure it'll be just as good... If not better, just because it's a little bit different.
When I first started cooking for myself, I was a disaster in the kitchen. From almost burning down my apartment with tater tots to messing up frozen pierogies and instant Stove-Top stuffing, I had a hard time making food. I had a small repertoire of dishes that I could handle - usually - and outside of them I was useless.
Then I got married. While I railed against the "traditional" roles for men and women, and plonq is actually a rather fine cook, I wanted to be able to cook for my new husband. There's something primal about being able to give your loved one something delicious that you made yourself. After a few false starts, including a melted creme pie and undone bruchetta (I assumed that the oven's readout was in Celcius), I buried myself in a "we know you're an idiot, but here's how to cook anyway" cookbook that I got as a shower gift.
That night I made parmesan chicken with twice-baked potatoes made from scratch. And it was good.
Buoyed by my success, I started trying other dishes: rosemary pork tenderloin, chicken stew with dumplings, spanish rice. But I was still terrified of deviating from the recipe. I didn't know enough about how flavors and ingredients interacted to try messing with the dishes I was preparing. If I was making something and forgot an ingredient while shopping, I either had to go get the ingredient or try something else.
I don't know when that changed. Gradually, though, I started to pick up on patterns in the recipes. Watching Plonq cook helped too - his rather seat-of-his-pants method of cooking seemed awfully scary to me, but things always seemed to work out for him. So I began experimenting. I would try a different ingredient here, or use a slightly different cooking technique there. Over the years, my cooking fu grew to the point where if I'm missing one or two things, I can usually come up with something close to substitute it with. (Not much you can do, though, if you're making chicken parmesan and forget the chicken... Unless you have some veal or tofu on hand.)
Today, while making up a shopping list, I went over the recipe for the stew I was planning on making tonight. I must have been distracted, though, because I completely skipped the first half of the ingredient list. So after I came home and start assembling my ingredients, I found that I was missing onions and mushrooms.
Damnit.
It's really cold outside now, so I was loathe to go back out. So I looked around. I found some dehydrated onion flakes, which would be a good onion stand in. But mushrooms. Hmm. We didn't have any canned. I considered using the frozen zucchini, but I worried that it would end up too mushy.
So, I tossed in a can of water chestnuts. Whatever. I also added some old dried up rice we had in the fridge, and a few bay leaves. Because stew needs bay leaves.
Plonq should be home soon. The bread is almost done baking, and the stew smells wonderful. Even if it doesn't taste like the version in the recipe, I'm sure it'll be just as good... If not better, just because it's a little bit different.