Naturally Dreamy

A blog about my life as an INFP living with an ESFJ, INTJ, and my pup. I blog about earth-friendly living and life through my eyes – not necessarily in that order. Come put your feet up where life is Naturally Dreamy!

Cooking Pad Thai (A Story)

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Last night I was hungry, and so even though it was only Monday, I decided to make a meal.

But first the dishes were piled too high to wash the saucepan that I needed to cook noodles in.

My hands grumble at me if I wash dishes without gloves, but the pair I have right now has at least one hole, so I decided “Imma risk it.”

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(Quote from The Finder – a show I thought I didn’t like at all from seeing it’s crossover ep with Bones, but ended up liking a lot!)

 

But it also gave me an idea for a biodegradable, spray-on glove that melts away as you wash, and can just rinse down the drain, and I think that’d be great, but I have no idea what it’d be made of, or how that a sprayed?-adhesive?-vegetable-based? matter would actually work…

Once I’d washed the dishes, and got the nearly week-old chili remnants out of the saucepan, and taken out the garbage, I went in search of noodles, and came up a lot more skimp than I expected. But I finally found the linguini I was questing for, and set water to boil.

I’ll do half mung bean glass noodles, and half Italian linguini, I thought.

As the water started to heat, I brought out all my vegetable-y ingredients and found I’d forgotten the main one – bok choy. I’m SURE I wrote in on my list, but I sure didn’t read it! XD

That’s okay, I’ll use those few last stalks of celery, and that ancient can of bamboo shoots that needed using.

I washed all the vegetables, and started mixing the sauce which I was making up since neither tamarind paste nor prepared Pad Thai sauce (sans MSG) was to be found in our local shops.

Once I’d finally scoured the pantry for the surprisingly elusive ingredients (like molasses) and secured them all, I was already pretty tired.

The water was in a nice rolling boil, and I opened the linguini box, and felt my stomach drop. It couldn’t be, could it? I hadn’t had this problem since I lived in another country. But a closer peer into the box confirmed it, but it was even worse halfway down the noodle where the insects seemed to have done most of there work and was chalky white.

I exclaimed something, probably something like “NO NONONo!” alarming Rimfire, and tried to reassure him while hastily grabbing a plastic bag. I tossed it in, and tossed the rice krispies that had the same suspect box damage and was near the noodles, and last minute grabbed the moldy spaghetti sauce I’d found in the fridge while taking stock of ingredients.

I was shaking my hand vigorously as I walked back from the dumpster. Now what noodles was I going to use? I’ll just cook the glass noodles for tonight, and make more noodles later if we want. I set them in, and turned off the burner per instructions, and started the tofu.

Oh yeah, the tofu! I was supposed to press it for 15 minutes, which I’d done while the water boiled. I set the tofu in our strainer (I only have one, so timing was key) with a paper towel above and below. For weight, I set a plastic container on it, piled oranges inside, and set a can balancing precariously between two oranges for just a bit extra weight.

The contraption fell a couple times…

I sliced up the tofu, but left some out, and started to fry it. Which didn’t work the way the recipe had hoped, so I decided to just stir fry everything together. At least it wasn’t sticking like crazy as I was used to!

I’d added the whole pack of mung beans (which was open, though it was supposed to be brand new – I told myself it was just a weak seam), celery, and bamboo shoots, and was working (unsuccessfully) on slicing green onions when BT walked in, back from work.

After he’d greeted the dog, and I pulled out a second cutting board to efficient-ize my onion cutting balanced delicately half on and half off of the counter, I asked if he could help?

“What do you need?”

“That…” I motioned to the wok, “needs stirring.”

Ended up that somehow it was overly liquidy despite having like no liquid added, and it was simmering instead of stir-frying, but hey, it should taste good.

While we listened to the alternative/modern rock station I had on, he manned the stove and I chopped the remaining ingredients. “Can you open this?” I said motioning to the canned baby corn. “How do you like your sugar snap peas?” I asked for how or if to chop them.

“I actually prefer them, er, not cooked,” he said, chomping on a bean.

“Cool! Er, can you get a mixing bowl.”

“Yeah!…. Where?”

I chopped the nice and fresh beans and slid them into the mixing bowl to await the rest of it’s pad thai compatriots.

We were finally on the last stage. 2 eggs. Egg drop soup is one of BT’s specialties, so I was glad to have his help here, and left it up to him how he’d like to incorporate them once I added them. This would help to thicken up the strangely soupy sauce as well.

I cracked one in and he swirled it around, and it looked like it was coming together.

I tapped the second one on the counter, and he bid me wait a moment, and then said, “Ready!” I cracked it and part of the egg came flying out on my arm, but the warning bell didn’t go off quickly enough, and I dumped the egg in. The smell hit me a millisecond later, after the first finessed spins of BTs wooden saptula, and I knew I’d just dropped in a rotten egg.

A browned interior of the egg confirmed as much, and BT held all as I went to the bathroom to wash up.

“Did I just ruin it?!!” I said, and quickly researched about eating bad eggs. Which I turned up nothing, and BT came and tried it and found it first off.

The symptoms were awful. Even if we’d managed to isolate where the egg had gotten to, neither of us wanted to risk it.

As he stood up from reading the screen, BT spread his arms and looked down at me. Wait, was my INTJ really offering me a hug? A motion confirmed it. It was so sweet of him; I accepted it gratefully. I was so tired and it’d been so close! And I’d just wasted our money on that. And he wasn’t the least upset at me which was so nice.

We walked back over to the kitchen.

“So, what do we have?” BT asked.

“Well… we’ve got noodles!” I said indicating the dished up glass noodles, “and peanuts, and, the beans!”

“Can you do a peanut sauce?”

“I can! I can make a good peanut sauce. Oh, wait, what is that?” BT’d been looking in the fridge, “Is that teriyaki sauce?”

“Yeah! And I have chicken…”

“… and I have tofu! I saved some of it back. There we go. That sounds good to me. What about you?”

He said as long as I had enough with that, he was definitely good with what he could add, and that was that.

We left the mix in the wok to cool down, and watched a few episodes of Monk while we ate the improvised dish and snacked extensively. XD

But that was just nuts XD As BT said, “Lesson: Always crack the eggs separately before adding!” 🙂

May your cooking adventures go better than mine last night! And if they don’t may you be surrounded by people as gracious, caring and understanding as I was blessed to be. 🙂

Q&A:

Have you had any silly cooking stories recently?

What’s the worst cooking mishap that’s happened for you?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Author: Arctic Hare!

I write Naturally Dreamy and have a lot of fun with that!

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