RECIPE FOR DISASTER

WARNING: Do not read this blog if you have a queasy stomach

March 10 is Friends of the Library Recipe Tasting Day, and I have been giving serious thought about what I should contribute to the cause. Anyone who knows me well also knows that I suffer from a lack of skill, putting it mildly, when it comes to the kitchen; therefore, I must be extremely careful about subjecting the public to my cooking.

Just about every culinary masterpiece I’ve ever attempted has bombed. I once made an apple pie from scratch but forgot to add sugar. I re-named it Sour Vomit Pie before grinding it down the garbage disposal. Everything I ever attempted to cook in jr. high home ec. was a full-blown disaster, so my teammates in our kitchen pod finally relegated me to the pantry room. I’d give them the ingredients they requested and then stay in there nibbling on brown sugar and chocolate chips the rest of the hour. “Whatever you do, don’t come near the stove!”

So, I’ve been having quite a time coming up with something safe for this upcoming Recipe Tasting Day. Just when I was about to settle on Dr. Maureen’s Olive Cheese Balls, Big Bore came up with a stunning idea. “Why don’t you fix your famous Norovirus Quiche?”

We both groaned. I once, quite surprisingly, made a fabulous sausage/spinach quiche that Big Bore eagerly snarfed down, not knowing that he’d been exposed to norovirus at the local nursing home, which was quarantined the day after his visit. This nasty virus hits quickly and with ferocity. Every orifice in Big Bore's body violently erupted about eight hours after we’d had supper. The experience was so disgusting and frightening that he swore off quiche for life, as well as his after-life and any other life after that.

The virus hit me three days later--on Thanksgiving night, 2006. Now, the last time I'd had a barf attack was in 1971 after a college graduation celebration when I'd made the mistake of combining beer and wine with Wild Turkey bourbon whiskey. The episode with norovirus more than made up for the 35-year dry spell. I still have difficulty looking at cranberry jello salad square in the eye, and I suspect you know why.

Hmmmm. I think I’ll play it safe for everyone at Recipe Tasting Day and just bring plastic plates and napkins. I've suddenly lost my appetite.