It’s all my cousin’s fault. She’s a fabulous cook and over the years I’ve obtained some special recipes from her. None ever turn out like hers which makes me suspect she is leaving something critical out of the list of ingredients.
This was what it was supposed to look like………………….
And this is why I’ve been holding off making her famous Caramel Cobbler. I just couldn’t bear to mess this one up. Deep in my heart I knew I would. But the weather was coolish and I decided that cobbler would be the perfect way to entertain my college roommate who was in town for a few days.
I carefully measured out all the ingredients and put the containers around the bowl like the TV cooks do. I began to mix things very carefully and following the direction to the “t”. (Obviously my “T” is different from my cousin’s.)
I cranked up the old GE to 350 degrees as the recipe specified. After five minutes into the cooking phase, everything was going swimmingly. Wonderful smells were wafting through the whole house and and I was rehearsing how I would respond to all the kudos when our high school group gets together today to enjoy my handiwork.
Suddenly I heard something that sounded like a squirrel being electrocuted while he scampered along a live-wire. I know that sound well because I watched it happen recently. At first I thought I was cooking something metal in the microwave, then realized with horror that hair-raising sound was coming from inside the oven.
I opened the door to peek inside and a ball of fire was circulating around the lower element of the oven. Oh, gee. I PROMISED the girls that cobbler so I did what I always do when crisis strikes. I called my neighbor, Brenda, and she let me come put it into her oven. I went back 30 minutes later to take it out. Brenda noted it was kind of “sloshy.”
I figured it would take some time cooling its heels on the counter to set up properly. So I hauled it back home, sloshing it on my shoes and leaving a trail from Brenda’s side door to my own. It sat all the way through the Mississippi State/Auburn football game and it grew soupier by the moment. Maybe I could serve it in silver goblets”?
I sealed my failure by sticking it back inside my wounded oven in an attempt to cook it a little more. With the lower element out of commission it was simply being broiled.
Of course, the sugar on top burned to a deep chocolate brown. Maybe I could rename it chocolate cobbler.
As I dumped the whole thing down the drain, I mulled over yet another culinary failure. The only thing I could do was throw a raincoat over my pajamas and run to the all night grocery to pick up an Edwards Key Lime Pie. I wish I had done that in the first place, but I harbor this vision of producing something edible and delicious from my cursed kitchen.
I guess cobbler doesn’t like being cooked in more than one oven at a time. The good news is I found a website on how to repair a burned out oven element. Maybe I’ll just use the microwave for a while and limit my oven usage to toast.