The Utterly Distracted Cook: Broccoli Mushroom Casserole
I was feeling so optimistic after making that tilapia earlier in the week. Hey, I can do this! I thought. I can pull it all together AND watch the kids! Well, pride comes before the fall, I guess. It certainly comes before the broccoli mushroom casserole.
I selected this recipe from the Moosewood Cookbook because even though it had a long cooking time (45 mins), it had a relatively short prep time (30 minutes) and I thought I could throw everything together and then relax while it baked. Nice idea in theory, right? Let us just say that on the particular day I made this recipe, I could not accomplish even the simplest task without being interrupted by disaster (aka Gloria).
The prep: Chop one onion. I thought I’d chop the onion early in the day, so at about 10 a.m I put one in the freezer to cut down on crying problems, and then got Utterly Distracted ™ and forgot what I was doing. Thus, when I went to chop the onion at dinnertime, it was still in the freezer. Frozen. On the plus side, a frozen onion does not cause very much crying, and it seemed to behave very much like a regular onion. Still, I was glad the recipe did not call for operating heavy machinery.
Next, chop broccoli. This went… okay. By this point, Gloria, contained in her exersaucer, decided she was done with the exersaucer. I tossed Gerber baby snacks onto the exersaucer to buy myself some time. This extra back-and-forth motion added at least six minutes to the prep time, and Gloria started letting out a bloodcurdling shriek every time she ran out of star puffs.
By the time I got the onions and garlic cooking in a saute pan, the broccoli chopped, the noodles drained, and the rest of the casserole ingredients measured out and mixed, Gloria was in full meltdown mode. Star puffs or no star puffs, she wanted an immediate change of scene, preferably to the high chair with mommy’s full attention and a jar of apples and apricots. I put her on the floor and attempted to distract her with toys, and she crawled off for a moment and allowed me to add the broccoli and mushrooms to the saute pan. While I was stirring the broccoli I heard a thud and a wail. Poor Gloria had slipped and smacked her head on the wood floor; she was fine, but tearful. I now had to complete this recipe with a baby on one hip.
(I must add at this point that while all of this was going on, Frances was sitting in the TV room politely asking for a bowl of grapes every five minutes. The telephone also rang several times, and my contractor came to the door to discuss the fence he was building for us. All of these things added slightly to the prep time of the recipe.)
Finally I put Gloria in her high chair, ignored her wails, and assembled the casserole. My kitchen looked like a bomb had gone off. Eggs and milk and broccoli scraps and cottage cheese containers were all over my counter where I had left them every time one of my kids had demanded my attention. A full forty-five minutes after starting to chop my onion, I finally got the thing into the oven. It looked good. I was ready for the angels to sing when at last I pulled it from the oven. This better be the best casserole in the known universe, I thought.
It wasn’t.
You know, it was fine. If I had made it without any distractions, it would have been a relatively easy recipe, and I would not have expected an orgasmic taste sensation. But I had struggled through forty-five minutes of screaming and wailing and puffy stars in order to get this thing in the oven, and because of this, I had slightly elevated expectations.
It was…. sort of casserole-ish. It required a whole cup of breadcrumbs in the casserole mixture and in hindsight this seemed to be the problem with the taste and texture; they created a slightly bitter paste out of what would have been a creamy cottage cheese sauce. Also, the egg noodles failed to elevate it above the classic Ye Olde Tuna Noodle, or even the exalted Noodle Kugel, both of which are much better. On the bright side, I’m sure I could make a better version of the broccoli mushroom with a few modifications: axe the breadcrumbs, add more seasoning, switch the noodles to regular penne or farfalle, and most importantly, get someone to watch the baby.
Oh, Frances didn’t eat it, either.
In celebration of my culinary adventures, last night we had takeout. I plan on attempting another recipe when I have recovered from the marathon that was Broccoli Mushroom.
1 comment April 12th, 2007
