It was nearly three years ago that I had the idea to start a food blog. I was eating a cup of Roasted Cauliflower with Poblano Peppers from the Birchwood Cafe. It was truly amazing. The flavors were deep and subtle. Ask yourself, just what does Cauliflower taste like? I’d never thought about it before and now that I do, I relied on the white bulbous shape to carry other flavors, whether its the dill dip it’s been dunked in or the curry powder that’s been sauteed in. This soup actually tasted like Cauliflower. It was then that I decided I had to recreate it.
Instead of kindly asking the Birchwood for the recipe, I went to the grocery store and bought lots of Cauliflower and Poblanos. I was going to figure out this recipe by myself. I didn’t even allow myself to pull “The Joy of Cooking” off the shelf for some guidelines. Nope, this time I was going to make a dish instinctively. And then I’d write about it. Success or Failure. That was the plan.
I roasted the Cauliflower and the Poblanos in the Oven. The Poblanos roasted beautifully and I pulled their thin skins from their bodies after they sweat it out in a paper bag. The Cauliflower was more difficult. How long should I roast it? When is it done? Does it need to turn a little bit brown? I had sprinkled the pieces with olive oil and they were beginning to turn a light brown like a marshmellow over the gentle part of a campfire. I decided they were done. Into the blender they went with a bit of chicken stock and the poblanos. But at what ratio?
I still had high hopes when I turned the blender on. The whirr of the machine called the dog into the kitchen. The chunks of vegetables quickly disintegrated into a fine slurry. I poured the mixture into a bowl, added a pinch of salt and a twist of pepper, stirred and reached in with a spoon. Wow. Really, truly, wow. It was horrible. What happened? Husband came into the kitchen at the sound of my angst and I handed him a spoon. Not a chance.
I looked into the bowl again and saw what Husband saw. A bowl of paper mache gunk. But actually, that might have tasted better. This “soup” had the sharpness of the peppers with just a hint of olive oil. And that was it. No other flavors to speak of. None of the depth and subtlety that the Birchwood had achieved. Not even close. I was so far off, that even failure couldn’t be written about. I poured the contents of the bowl down the disposal and quickly washed out the blender. Better to just put this behind me. The Cauliflower, the Soup and the Blog. The blog was put on hold. I needed time to regroup.
When the kitchen was cleaned up I turned to see Husband’s rejected spoon on the counter. It was still coated in the “soup.” The dog had remained underfoot and was staring up at me with his big brown eyes. I leaned down with the spoon and sure enough, he licked it clean. Huh.
wonderful story! ah bogey, saves the day…
gold start for trying to go by instinct! Braver than me!
The last paragraph is the best part.
If nothing else, sounds like you made Bogey’s day. ( + ;