Last night was a failure in the kitchen to say the least. I attempted to make a Mexican Fritatta, (picture above courtesy of good ol’ Martha Stewart) but it didn’t turn out a thing like the picture. I should have taken a photo of the disasters in the kitchen last night, but I didn’t. Just take my word for it (and Tyler’s) that it was bad. It was awful. I may never want to cook again because of it.

Ha. That’s funny, me never wanting to cook again. My mom knows I hate cooking, but then again when you are newly married there is something that changes. There’s a pleasure that comes from making a meal from scratch and presenting it to your husband with the attitude of “Look what I did all by myself!” It’s actually pretty rewarding, I might add. But when things go horribly wrong (like last night) and you serve your husband raw egg, it’s not so great to claim that you made the meal all by yourself.

The frittata was basically a huge omelet with onions and red bell peppers in it. It was delicious, don’t get me wrong. However, when the top third of the dish is raw and had that jiggly-jello/slime/snot texture to it, that wasn’t the most appetizing. After several attempts to cook it, the bottom started to burn. We ended up scraping off the top and eating 2/3 of the dish.

I really don’t know what went wrong. I never do.

So as we finally sit down to a cold meal, no more than two minutes later the kitchen starts smoking. I had made poppyseed bread and stuck it in the oven, only to realize it exploded and bubbled over the pan. So the misery, embarassment, and shame started all over again. I really was humiliated and stood there crying in the kitchen while Tyler tried to calm me down and clean up the mess simultaneously. On top of that, I was scared the bottom of the oven was going to catch on fire. That happened once on the stovetop, and I didn’t want to replay that entire scenario all over again. It’s a pretty scary thought that more than twice now I have almost burned down our kitchen. Oh well. No one would really notice it was gone anyway, since it’s so small you can’t even tell it’s there in the first place.

Anyway, back to the cake.I mean bread. Now it looks like a cake. I transfered it to an 8×8 square pan, so now it is cake-like instead of loaf-like. But it still tastes great. Tyler brought some to work if you’d like to try it. I still don’t know what went wrong (I see an ongoing trend with this phrase though) but oh well. I checked the recipe, and it called for one 8x4x2 pan, but perhaps that is wrong? Can cookbooks be wrong??

Here’s the finished result. I think next time I will stick to muffins.