Day 76 Botulism, Anyone?
I got all kitchen-inspired yesterday by Secrets of Moms Who Dare to Tell All (how can you resist such a tagline?) to make what Secret-Telling Mom Liz calls the Best Macaroni & Cheese Ever. Since I’m pretty fond of all pasta and all cheese, it’s a lead-pipe cinch that a recipe claiming the best ever combo will call to me.
Not the best strategy for my cholesterol-lowering plan (which isn’t so much a plan as an observation. As in “I should do something to lower my cholesterol.”)
Nevertheless, in our house we get excited about a fresh bulk purchase of President’s Choice White Cheddar Mac-n-Cheese. No plain ole’ KD for us anymore, thank you very much! So this concoction promised to be a crowd-pleaser.
Unfortunately, my day got away on me a bit, and by the time I got started, I only had about a half-hour before I had to leave for yoga. I’d have to hurry.
I went into the pantry, a niggling suspicion that my grocery purchasing had been a little lax of late. Sure enough, no macaroni. Oh well, I found two crumpled-up bags of opened fusilli noodles. That would do just fine. Maybe not quite as much I needed, but I’d make do.
I started the water boiling and got out another pot for the cheese sauce. Hm. The recipe called for Gruyere. I could substitute goat cheese, from another gratin recipe that my family had given the thumbs-up to. No problem.
But as the noodles cooked, I realized there really wasn’t enough of them. I’d have to augment the recipe. Protein and vegetables, that would be good. I had canned crabmeat, oooh, yum. Broccoli or kale would be great but I was all out of fresh vegetables. Then I found a can of artichoke hearts. We love the cheesy crab-and-artichoke dip appetizer, I thought. Why not put it in with the pasta?
Great idea. I pulled the tab on the artichokes and… hisssss-splat!! The thing exploded like a shaken beer can. Sour artichoke-juice all over me, the counter, the fridge, the floor. I stood dripping for a moment, wondering how I was going to deal with this in time to make my yoga class, then remembered I could always offload the clean-up to my daughter. After all, that’s why you have kids, right?
I tipped the artichokes into the sink, noticing that they looked and smelled just fine. I nibbled on the corner of one, thinking I could give them a rinse and add them to the casserole, where no one would be the wiser. Tasted fine. Wait. Isn’t botulism tasteless?
Reluctantly I spat out my tid-bit and ran the whole mess down the garburator.
Now I’ve got a drippy, sticky floor, various unrinsed cans, spoons, pots and containers littering the counter, plus an incomplete casserole that bears no resemblance to the initial inspiration.
Then I remembered there was a can of kale somewhere in the back of the pantry. Now, I’ve grown fond of fresh kale. It’s a super-food, you know, so it’s got to be a good cholesterol-fighter. And it’s got a nice crunch and tang. I have no idea, however, why I purchased a sodding can of it. Or when, for that matter.
But desperate times, and all that. I blew the dust off it, opened it and dumped it in. A bit more pungent than the fresh stuff, but maybe the crab smell would override it, I thought. Mixed it all together with the sauce, hid it under a layer of breadcrumbs, covered the whole mess with a mountain of grated parmesan cheese and I dashed off to my class.
“This is good,” my husband mumbled around a mouthful. He’s always been easy to feed. It probably helps that he has no sense of smell. I’m not kidding.
When I told him my cookery adventure, he paused, fork in mid-flight. “But it’s safe to eat. Right?”
I hastened to reassure him. By that point, my experiment had zero appeal to me but everyone else seemed to enjoy it, so what do I know.
And right now, before I head off to today’s class, I have to fire up the steam-cleaner. Even I am grossed out by the condition of my kitchen floor.
By the way, anyone know the symptoms of botulism??