Well, if that title doesn’t say it all, I don’t know what does.

Let’s get something established off the bat: I consider myself a fairly liberal person – few things offend me. Few things make me blush. And I rarely see something and wonder how that ended up in a magazine or on television or wherever. I believe in an open and honest relationship with kids and don’t shy away from difficult topics. But I also don’t invite uber-sexuality into my home either. I don’t subscribe to magazines that are inappropriate for my children to flip through and I don’t frequent late night pay per view (in fact, I never order pay per view anything – waste of money IMHO).

One of the magazines that arrives weekly in my little black mailbox is New York Magazine. My husband and I both read it. I typically check out the restaurant reviews and “In Season” column first, and then flip through the interesting articles. I have clippings of “In Season,” in a file in my office. I’ve learned about so many interesting foods from there that I wouldn’t have known about otherwise.

So, after several years of subscribing, I have a reasonable expectation that the magazine won’t run anything that my young children shouldn’t see. I expect to be able to read a reasonably interesting food section. Read the rest of this entry…

I mentioned it earlier this week, but I really need to tell you about the horrid tilapia I whipped up last week. Like totally yuck. *Splat!*

The whole concept began with the best of intentions. It really sounded like a brilliant idea. I would juice one and a half blood oranges and make a light and tasty marinade to go with the tilapia I had defrosted. Then, I would garnish the dish with bits of the other half of the second blood orange. How could I go wrong? It was just a simple sauce after all.

It. Was. Awful.

It looked like the dish I had planned. But the taste? Eh, not so much.The blood oranges had a flavor reminiscent of lemons, not the light and sweet flavor I had hoped for. Where was the delicious flavor I had read about and envisioned? Where was the dish I’d imagined? I’ll tell you were it wasn’t — on my plate. Will and I both ate about half of our portions. The dish just didn’t work.

I wish I could say that every fleeting thought that I have for a recipe results in a great meal. But the truth is that doesn’t happen – to anybody. Everyone has cooking disasters. And when you cook like I do – experimenting more often than not – you run the risk of having disasters more often.

Fortunately, I am usually pretty good at pairing flavors. When you think about what works together, that can be pretty easy. Rosemary with garlic. Basil with tomatoes . . . or garlic or both.

In any case, this week I am sticking with safer dishes. I can’t take another upset like that. At least not for a few weeks.

So, spill. What kind of cooking disasters have you had lately?

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You notice that you’ve turned on the wrong burner, scorching a poor hapless potholder and failing to boil that damned water for your pasta . . . and failed to turn on the lukewarm oven (since there’s been so much cooking going on) leaving your chocolate chip cookies in disarray.

Yes ladies and gentlemen, I think I need a break. Fortunately that all happened last night. And the marshmallow disaster (we’ll talk about that later) happened much earlier in the day. Too much pressure, I tell you. And it’s all self induced.

*Sigh* I just want it all to be perfect. Is that too much to ask???

I discovered something tonight.

See, I was craving something sweet but okay for you. I decided to test out a corn bread recipe I located on Cooking Light this afternoon. I’ve had corn bread before and it’s always been kind of sweet and definitely moist. That is what I was expecting.

Come to find out the sweet corn breads I am used to are a Northern thing. In the South, corn bread (real corn bread, as opposed to what we eat here) is not sweet. At all. Ever.

So anyway, I made this corn bread and was surprised when it wasn’t sweet. It didn’t hit the spot at all, though it was a good recipe – it’s just not for me.

And what I discovered was that I don’t really like corn bread after all.

There goes that Thanksgiving menu item.