This is not a post about overcoming food phobias and eating "weird" foods, nor is it about using a dangerous cooking technique. It is about making things right when things have gone terribly wrong.
Last weekend, Mr. C gave me the task to make an amazing three-course meal for less than fifty dollars. I came up with a menu of cream of asparagus soup, porkchops with orange fennel slaw, some sort of potato side dish, and this obscene deconstructed banoffee pie sundae.
The "some sort of potato side dish" was clearly an afterthought. I took three potatoes, peeled them, and then proceeded to boil them. When I thought they were done, I took them out of the water and let them cool. A good ten minutes later, I came back to check on them and found they were still raw in the middle.
I placed the potatoes in a stainless steel pot, doused them with olive oil, salt and pepper, and turned up the gas. I was trying in vain to make a certain somebody's shaky pot potatoes from memory. I shook the pot around with the lid on, hoping some magic would occur. I lifted the lid and found three brutalized potatoes on the verge of burning.
Begrudgingly, I called Mr. C into the kitchen for an opinion. At that point, I didn't have the heart to try and save the dish. Mr. C made the assessment that the potatoes could be salvaged, and with my permission, he went about bringing them back to life as potato cakes, breaded and fried in a deep bath of browned butter.
There are at least two things to take away from this story. First, butter will nearly always save you in a time of need. Second, a little TLC and a fresh perspective goes a long way in making something good out of a bad situation.
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