Wednesday, 2 February 2011
Well, that was fun....sort of. Well, not really.
Lately, several of you have taken the time to let me know you’re reading the blog and how much you enjoy it. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it! I love to hear your thoughts and comments because they encourage me to write and share more with you all. So, please…Keep. Them. Coming.
Hmm, what’s new this week?
Some of my gluten free finds are not so impressive. I really had a taste for spaghetti and was seriously let down. The rice pasta was….ummm…..different? No…ummm….hmmm….it was….disgusting, chewy and mushy, bizarre, bland, gross….Yeah, that about covers it.
My first problem came with the instructions. They said, bring water to a boil and add the pasta. When water returns to a boil, about 5-7 minutes, remove and drain pasta. Do not overcook.
Sounds pretty straightforward, don’t it? Well, let me tell ya, IT AIN’T! I put the pasta in the boiling water and immediately the water began to take on this milky appearance. But that’s fine. I figured I could deal with that. So, I kept right on with the instructions and stood there stirring with my handy dandy wooden spoon. After about 5 minutes the water began to boil and had become so milky that I couldn’t even see the noodles anymore. I fished around in the water and managed to grab up a noodle to test for doneness.
I closed my eyes. I prayed. I crinkled up my nose. I bit off a piece. Crunch? What? They’re not done? But it said don’t overcook. *momentary panic* Surely this wasn’t their interpretation of done. *deep breath* Ok, well I’ve still got a minute and a half before we’re at 7 minutes. I’ll just wait.
7 minutes: they’re still not done. I wait again.
I stirred. I sighed. I rolled my eyes and looked at the ceiling. I chanted to myself, “If they’re not done, they can’t be over cooked. If they’re not done, they can’t be over cooked.”
Then I paused to listen to the weather, and a tennis ball came flying from the hallway into the living room, followed by a 60 pound, leggy, 7 month old boxer in a full run, followed by a giggling and screaming nine year old, who was supposed to be at the table eating his “not weird” spaghetti, also in a full run. Ball, dog and kid slid across my living room floor. I yelled. “It’s dinner time! WHY. ARE. YOU. PLAYING. WITH. THE. DOG???”
They both proceeded to look at me like I’d lost my mind. However, Iva did go her merry way to play with Sky and Jack made his way to the table. Then I remembered my weird spaghetti….
I went to the kitchen to drain it. It had been 10 minutes. I wasn’t even going to bother to test for doneness. In all fairness to the rice pasta manufacturer, it was most certainly overcooked. It was mushy and bland, and even the Italian sausage I had used with the sauce didn’t help that. Not to mention that as I drained the so called pasta Don gave me an “are-you-seriously-going-to-eat-that” look.
I’m quite certain that my next “spaghetti” experience will be done with spaghetti squash or polenta. Rice spaghetti is not spaghetti. It’s weirdness… on a plate and covered with sauce. Period. Anything that can be both chewy and mushy at the same time cannot be normal.
What’s that you say? Spaghetti squash and polenta aren’t spaghetti either? Well, you know what? At least they’re normal and I can count on them to be good and consistent, and they’ll never look like genetically mutated wiggly worms floating around in marinara. So there….*sticks out tongue for emphasis*