Sometimes recipes do not go as planned. Sometimes they simply do not live up to your expectations. Sometimes you’re home from work, in a rush, and just cannot deal with the letting something set for a half hour or more before starting the cooking process. And sometimes, sometimes there are unexpected body parts in your can of fish.
Body parts, you say? Now that I have your attention, let’s start there. I had high hopes for a salmon patty recipe I came across. Reputable source and a pretty dish in pictures; it gave me the courage to leave all the reservations, err fears, behind that I have harbored since the days of smelling my grandmother’s foul, and probably burnt, salmon patties of my youth. That being said, I was excited to give these a go and change my view on the salmon patty for good.
All my hopes and dreams went down the drain when Pal opened the can and said, “What’s this?”. A vertebra. A vertebra followed by another vertebra, followed by most of spine and several teeny, tiny bones. Despite Pal’s careful deboning of all visible skeletal intruders, there was really no winning me back by that point. I went on to form the patties (much stickier than I anticipated and a total waste of homemade mayo) and only then did I notice that these puppies needed to set for at least half an hour. An extra half hour on a weeknight, post-gym, is pretty much an eternity and more or less unacceptable. So I allotted fifteen minutes tops for the setting of things, which led to them promptly falling apart and my interest dwindling further. Several minutes later, with one bite under my belt, I gave up and had fruit with a side of green beans for dinner. Pal powered through, but I was not that strong. The next day, following a Facebook post of my woeful experience, I discovered that this fish skeleton situation is a common one with cans of salmon, not just the off-brand farmers’ market variety, and that, if I dare go the salmon patty route ever again, salmon in a pouch is a much safer bet.
Now that I’ve regaled you with what we shall forevermore refer to as Fish Fail ’15, my other culinary disappointments with pale in comparison. Let me leave you with this: textures are important (steer clear of what your husband might liken to baby food), ingredients are a crystal ball of sorts as to what your finished product will be like (if there is nothing in the recipe to transform a few paltry items into something rich and stewy, all the hope in the world won’t magically turn the said items into more than broth with chunks of meat).
Oh and, hey there day 19! Minus the fact that the smelling of pizza feels like a new and terrible level of hell, this second stab at a Whole30 has been breezing by.