Sunday, 15 May 2016

The Saucepan Slayer Strikes Again.

A family tradition it seems...

A real who-done-it in our house? Well, I blame the Knödl this time even though it started out so very innocent.

For a month or so, each time I had opened my kitchen cupboard, a packet of bread cubes ( main ingredient for a Knödl ) made itself known to me and only my dread of the rather the messy labour involved in making them in addition to there often being a lack of eggs, has had it banned onto the shelf for ages. Until last Friday, eh, the 13th...

They had a special on mushrooms and that sealed the deal and set off a rather treacherous chain of events leading to the pot meeting its maker...We should have taken heed of the universe's signs because as we were loading the groceries into the back of our car, one item fell through the Bobster's hands and splashed onto the pavement in a rather picturesque way. The sour cream!

Yes, you guessed it...I made a mushroom stew to go with the aforementioned culprits. Those were rather on the tough side in any case and the first batch that we ate was far from fluffy and soft as one expects from a Bavarian Knödl. Yet, I stubbornly did another batch, which we might have had fried for breakfast.

Bob and I sat and ate our supper in front of the T.V. which sealed the deal for the unfortunate pot. Both of us were overtaken by the slumber fairy and I woke up a few hours later to a most awful acrid smell wafting about. It took me a few moments to place it and racing through to the kitchen, I saw a blackened pot with even worse looking Knödls at the bottom of it...

You needn't tell me...I know it was a lucky escape.
As for my own personal fireman, he slumbered through the whole ordeal and only discovered the deed in the morning. Honestly, I was rather glad about that as he would have straightaway had a few choice words for and to me. Weeelll, they wouldn't have been out of place either.

Luckily, I have a slight history of this kind of crime as I have done a similar deed about 15 years ago, which at least takes the notion of old age and forgetfulness off the table. Thank goodness!

The whole of the following day, I had conveniently banned the pot affair from my mind and when mum phoned me in the evening to have a chat, it still wasn't an issue. But, for some reason, mum kept heading to this pot business and was even about to mention making Knödls herself, when I realized she knew!

Bob of course had spilled the beans to his mother-in-law and perhaps with glee or complaint but the guarantee has run our long ago. No return policy for this daughter!

After a few moments of my mum teasing me about the saucepan business, I understood why she was smiling: it seems that the apple doesn't fall far from the tree and saucepan slaying seems to be a family tradition...

A real case of the pot calling the kettle black...

Biggi