I should start out by saying that I can cook, I won’t be appearing on MasterChef any time soon but nonetheless I am not a novice in the kitchen, nor am I a one trick pony, far from it.
My
repertoire isn’t extensive but neither is it small and nor am I restricted to
one cuisine, so I have a variety of skills, however I cannot do pastry, that is
my Achilles heel so I always have to use shop bought, though that shortcoming
does not have any bearing on the tale I’m about to tell, so with that
established I will proceed with the story.
It
was a weekday evening and it was my turn to cook that night, as it was a
weeknight and I had to take the boys to football training later, I opted for
something quick and easy, Macaroni Cheese and it was while I was making a
cheese sauce, something I had done a hundred times before, that disaster
struck.
Perhaps it was the very fact that I had done it so many times before that I
became complacent and took my eye off the ball, because I mistakenly used icing
sugar instead of flour, and the result of this schoolboy error was a strange
cheesy custard abomination which would certainly not go over Macaroni and
caused so much hilarity from the family, cruel mean spirited laughter to my mind,
and with their callous laughter still ringing in my ears I started the sauce
again.
At
the second attempt my efforts were met with greater success and the Macaroni
Cheese was completed, cooked and enjoyed.
But
since that day no matter what dish I prepare or how well I execute it, my
family still delight in reminding me about the day I made Cheesy Custard.
