Not all of my cooking experiences have been flawlessly executed. Some have been miserable failures, others gastric nightmares that have left me slung over a toilet, blaming the meal I'd just eaten and swearing off the ingested food for life. I had to laugh recently when my kids said their dad told them to ask me why I never make orange roughy. Early in our marriage, Tony gave me a copy of The Southern Living Cookbook. I began to experiment with recipes from the tome with regularity. One of the meals we both enjoyed was a grilled orange roughy with broccoli and cheese sauce.
Pardon me, I must pause. I still get dry heaves thinking about it.
I had made this particular meal on several occasions, but one fateful evening after we had enjoyed it (probably with a glass of ice cold white zinfandel, tres sophisticated) I became sick. Really sick. I could not stop throwing up. There is no worse regurgitation in this world than fish and broccoli, let me tell you. Jee-ZUS. This was vomiting of biblical proportions, and the first time my new husband had seen me in such a vulnerable state. I'm quite sure it was food poisoning, in hindsight. I can't blame the cheap white wine, I'm incapable of drinking enough to get sick-two glasses of wine puts me to sleep better than any Ambien or Lunesta ever could. Nonetheless, I've never been able to bring a forkful of orange roughy to my lips ever since. I've also sworn off of any combination of broccoli and cheese. Just a whiff of a soup with those two ingredients is enough to make my stomach clench in terror. It's been twenty frigging years and I've never eaten those foods again. My palate has the curse of total recall.
One of my other recipes gone awry resulted only in a technical failure, the taste wasn't impacted. For my sweet 16th birthday, I had sewn a dropped waist dress made of a pale pink, fine whaled corduroy. It had a cream colored grosgrain ribbon encircling the waist, and a large bow on the left side. I wore it with cream colored panty hose and nude colored vinyl high heels with a large bow on the toe. The dress looked a lot like this, sans the lace and hat.
I had lots of dreams of what my 16th birthday would be like-a boyfriend, a real date, lots of French kissing, a gold necklace with a floating heart-but it turned out to resemble nothing that I had hoped for. Of course, that pink confection of a dress may have had something to do with my lack of a beau or any type of social life for that matter. My mom rented 16 Candles for our Betamax, and I watched that with her and my sisters while I ate chocolate mousse-which I had prepared while talking on the phone and subsequently screwed up because I was distracted. The chocolate mousse method I employ uses gelatin, and it needs to be dealt with swiftly. Otherwise, it starts to set up, and no amount of mixing will get rid of the little bits of gelatin that remain which have the consistency of toad eyes.
I love to serve this with raspberry coulis. Red raspberries and chocolate were just meant to go together. You can even substitute Splenda for the sugar in this recipe for a low carb dessert. This recipe is from a wonderful cookbook, Hershey's Fabulous Desserts. My copy is covered in chocolaty smudges and splatters, proof that it delivers the goods. My apologies to the Hershey company, I'm not so loyal when it comes to their cocoa. I prefer higher end brands for the mousse.
Chocolate Mousse
1 envelope unflavored gelatin
2 TBSP cold water
1/4 C boiling water
1 cup superfine sugar, or Splenda
1/2 cocoa powder
2 C chilled heavy whipping cream
2 tsp vanilla extract
In a custard up, sprinkle the gelatin over cold water; let stand 1 minute to soften. Add boiling water; still until gelatin is completely dissolved and mixture is clear. Cool slightly. (Not for say, a half hour while you chat with your friend about your lame 16th birthday.) In a mixing bowl, stir together sugar and cocoa; add whipping cream and vanilla. Beat at medium speed, scraping bottom of bowl occasionally, until stiff peaks form. Pour in gelatin mixture and beat until well blended. Spoon into serving dishes or chocolate shells. Chill at least 1/2 hour prior to serving. Makes 4 cups.