Words, Words, Words

December 25, 2001

I decided to make a frittata for Christmas. It's not that frittatas are particularly Christmasy, but it's something I've wanted to try for a long time. The main reason I've never made it before now is that the only baking dish that seemed suitable is really too big--it's a nice flat-bottomed glass dish that is perfectly suitable for roasting potatoes or mushrooms, but I'd have to use at least half a dozen eggs to cover it to any depth, and even that might not be enough. But I wanted to make something nice for Christmas, and something that wasn't one of my regular dishes, and if I had a lot of leftovers, well, that's okay.

So I walked up to Fresh Fields yesterday and bought eight organic large brown eggs and a tub of feta cheese. Tonight I started by slicing some fingerling potatoes very thin, then I cracked the eggs into a bowl. I poured some olive oil into the baking dish and took one last look at the recipe while the oil heated up. I dumped the potatoes in and started stirring them while I crumbled up the feta. The potatoes were nicely golden when I realized I hadn't put in any salt or pepper, so I added that to the eggs and whipped them up and mixed in the feta. Then I set the wooden spoon aside and poured the egg mixture into the baking dish, which instantaneously separated into hundreds of fragments, accompanied by a loud bang. Did I mention I was barefoot? I had the presence of mind to turn off the burner before carefully leaving the kitchen. I decided that cleaning up could wait until the glass had cooled off.

This isn't the first culinary disaster I've had with a new recipe, but it is definitely the most spectacular.

And no, I'm probably not going to get back to writing journal entries regularly. I still post fairly often in my newsgroup, which is the best place to keep up with what I'm doing.

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