If you’re not Betty Crocker
Judy Conlin
I invited a couple of friends over this week for coffee and conversation. Being of Italian descent, I , of course, wanted to feed them. Not being Betty Crocker, my culinary and baking accomplishments are pretty iffy. On top of that, I never want to make something I have made successfully before. I always want to try something new that I find on-line or in a magazine or brochure, often with disastrous results. I decide this time I would keep it simple. I would just have cheese and spreads with various kinds of crackers and bread . I added a bowl of fruit and some chocolate to dip the strawberries in.
I should have stopped there, but I kept thinking I should have a real dessert, not just some fruit. What should I serve? Luckily that very day I received a recipe tucked in with an invoice to renew a lady’s magazine. It was an apple dessert, something like a cobbler and it said it was simple. I don’t know their definition of simple, but just coring and paring and slicing 6 huge Granny Smith apples used up most of my baking energy. I plowed ahead but was worried that it might not turn out well. Not being Betty Crocker, I quickly motored to the bakery and bought 4 apple fritters just in case. Now I was all set and ready to sit down and rest until they came.
As I was sitting and resting, a bad thought entered my head. What if my guests didn’t like or eat apples? What if they had apple allergies? I needed to have a different dessert just in case. It was back to the drawing board. What in the world should I have? I make very tasty custard. Maybe I should make that. That recipe never fails me. That seemed like the perfect plan as I returned to the kitchen. The more I thought about it the less I liked this new idea. A cup of plain custard seemed so non=celebratory and boring. I needed something a little more exotic, but what?
I opened the pantry and perused the contents. What should I make? My eyes fixed on a bottle of lemon juice. It had a recipe on the side for lemon truffles. You didn’t even bake them-just put the ingredients together, roll them in balls and powder them with sugar. Since time was getting short, I decided this would be a quick fix. It wasn’t as easy as I imagined but I soon had a bag of sugary blobs and powdered sugar on my hands, in my hair , and on my clothes. Still, I was satisfied that I had an alternative.
I was satisfied until I cleaned myself up and tried one. The little blob crumbled in my hand and again I was a mess. I certainly couldn’t have my guests covered in blob ingredients and powdered sugar, so it was back to the pantry.
I finally picked a can of halved apricots with a recipe called simply an-apricot dessert. I was now desperate and quickly whipped up this easy recipe. I didn’t know if it would be a cake, a pudding, a cobbler or what but it was easy to make. I put it in the oven, and it came out a golden brown. I carved out a taste, and it was good. The problem was it was only about ¼ inch tall. How could I serve a potion of this that would be more than a mouthful without carving up half the whole desert? And what if they asked me what it was. I didn’t know and it would be awkward.
I hid my array of offerings in the laundry room , and when my company came, I discreetly asked them if they ate apples. When they answered in the affirmative, I gave a sigh of relief. When I went to serve the apple concoction warm with vanilla ice cream, one guest said she didn’t eat ice cream. The other said she only wanted a tiny amount of ice cream. I piled on a lot of ice cream, but even so it wasn’t that good. They ate theirs in silence, which was probably good. The conversation was great and I was so happy to have our little time together. Despite everything it was a success.
There is one little problem. I now have the remains of my apple dish, 4 apple fritters, a bag of doughy truffles, a flat apricot, something, and an almost gallon of vanilla ice cream taking up all my kitchen, refrigerator, and freezer space., The cats are no help. They remember the homemade cat food I once made for them.
All I can say is if you’re hungry and not picky, come on over,
More later,
Judy www.nursejudyinfo.com.
P.S. Next time it’s custard.
