Last week, the Guardian ran a hilarious article about “dodgy recipes,” including a “bizarre creation” by legendary chef Ferran Adrià: a Spanish tortilla full of crushed potato chips, which food writers—who normally wet their pants at the mere mention of Adrià—deemed a giant recipe FAIL.
More baffling, no, more sickening, was the appearance of Jean-Christophe Novelli’s latest Orangina-based (cough, funded) attempt to encourage us Brits to stop being so boring – an Orangina and smoked salmon timbale. Food writer Xanthe Clay, whose children were left traumatised after eating it, described it on Twitter as the “love child of a 70s buffet and a 70s airline dessert … Odd” and in a subsequent blogpost as “mesmerizingly nasty”.
Setting aside the pragmatic, if not egregious reasons for such a recipe’s inception, these aberrations are an important reminder of the fallibility of cookery writers. There aren’t many of us who don’t have a recipe or five they’d rather were forgotten – that attempt to be wacky that misfired, the ill-conceived combination that seemed so clever at the time, that bold endeavour to fly by the seat of our pants that ended in naught but a wedgie.
My mind immediately went to a “dodgy recipe” that has lingered long in the memory of my own family: the infamous “cranberry chicken” made by my late and much-beloved grandmother.
Grandmee was in many ways an excellent cook—she had a bachelor’s degree in home economics and taught the subject for many years. She was a terrific baker, and I still dream about the fresh peach and blackberry ice cream we used to make every summer. But like most women her age, Grandmee’s meals owed much to the cuisine of the mid-20th century—the Dark Ages of US cooking. Canned stuff. Dried stuff. Frozen stuff. Bottled stuff. Things like fresh garlic and olive oil were seen as exotic and slightly suspect. Curry or chiles were handled as cautiously as a live grenade.
Our family’s dish of mesmerizing nastiness came from a recipe in Ladies’ Home Journal or Family Circle or one of those magazines and consisted of the following trifecta of awfulness:
1 can jellied cranberry sauce (the kind that slides out of the can with a moist sucking sound with the little ridges of the can still impressed upon it)
1 bottle of Catalina salad dressing (a spicy tomato and high fructose corn syrup-based concoction)
1 packet of Knorr Onion dried onion soup mix (as seen in other American classics like meatloaf and sour-cream dip)
Mix together. Pour over unsuspecting chicken parts. Bake in a casserole dish until bubbly.
I confess that when this was set in front of me, I couldn’t eat it. And I will eat most things. I can’t even excuse myself by saying I was a little kid at the time; I wasn’t. I was in my early teens and had been raised to eat whatever Grandmee made, even if I wasn’t crazy about it (which rarely happened, because the lady was truly a good cook). But this was sweet and sour and salty and oniony and MSG-laden and a nightmarish combination of things that really, really didn’t go together…so I faked a stomachache. I don’t think I was fooling anyone. I know I wasn’t fooling my mother, and she got her smarts from Grandmee, so I’m fairly sure I wasn’t fooling Grandmee either. MamaSharper did, however, smuggle me a bread-and-butter sandwich that night before bed and admit that the Cranberry Chicken hadn’t exactly been her favorite, either. I’m sorry, Grandmee. I love you and miss you. But that chicken was awful.
I know we have many avid cooks and eaters among us…what’s the biggest recipe/culinary FAIL you’ve ever encountered (or were responsible for)? Please share in the comments—although this may be one of the few food-related threads where we DON’T want to swap recipes…except as cautionary tales.
P.S. You may also enjoy one of my all-time internet favorites: James Lileks’s Gallery of Regrettable Food, a site devoted to the culinary horrors of American recipes from the 1940s-60s.
The two worst things I have ever made myself were a celeriac and clove soup, which tasted like a Bloody Mary if you made it with mouthwash and a salt cod and leek stir fry, which tasted like death. I’ve blocked anything bad I’ve made anyone else.
And at risk of pissing everyone American on the thread off, I’m amazed by how many American recipes, even from big name bloggers and chefs, still use stuff like onion soup mix, unneeded tinned foods, Cool Whip and that kind of thing, dressed up as cooking. This is very different to the equivalents in Britain, although I may be looking in the wrong places?
As my boyfriend and I got used to living together, my food horizons expanded a lot, since he’s a vegetarian and I grew up as a very picky eater, especially about veggies (…it’s a work in progress…). My boyf had no cooking skills outside of scrambled eggs when we got together, so although he said that he wouldn’t mind if I made myself something meat-based and left him to fend for himself, I did almost all the cooking for both of us and so had to learn how to cook vegetarian. The first summer we lived together, I brought a bunch of old (maybe 70s/80s? MM will have to weigh in) cookbooks that my mom had lying around for inspiration, and in one of them I found this recipe for Russian potato salad. I’ve never been a huge fan of potato salad, but it was summer, so the idea of something cool was nice, and I do like potatoes, and the main other ingredient was sour cream, and we’re both big on dairy.
Anyway, so, it came out totally wrong. I guess I excised too many ingredients I didn’t like, because it really tasted like the sour cream and nothing else. The proportions were really off, too, so it ended up being these bland chunks of potato floating in a thin soup of sour cream (with dill that I couldn’t taste). I think there were also cucumbers in it for some reason, and those didn’t go at all. The temperature wasn’t right, either — I didn’t have time to chill it properly so the cold sour cream + the warm potatoes made for an unappetizing tepidness. My boyfriend generally eats enough for ~2.5 normal people, and I think that’s the only thing I’ve ever made that he’s totally abandoned after only a couple of bites.
I have not made any further attempts at Russian or Russian-inspired food. Or potato salad.
@baraqiel: Our families left Russia for a number of good reasons, and that recipe is one.
Baraqiel is being very kind not to discuss my many recipe failures over the years. No single one pops to mind, but there have been more than a few. It’s the price of experimenting.
@ Gherkinette,
“…..use stuff like onion soup mix, unneeded tinned foods, Cool Whip and….”
There is no such thing as an ‘unneeded’ ingredient in American cuisine – consumption for consumption’s sake. And the Kraft Edible Food-Like Substances Company always garners a small stipend or honourarium whenever the name of one of its products appears in print or electronic media by the way.
Cooking is chemistry, chemistry is science and science is hard. This unfortunate near-truism explains the ‘dressed up as cooking’ phenom to which you refer.
@gherkinette: I think the American penchant for cooking with processed food began in the post-war years with good intentions—it liberated women from having to make everything from scratch every day, and in some cases, provided a more varied diet than people would have gotten from fresh food (canned veggies or meat when fresh wasn’t available, etc). I think nowadays processed stuff is still seen as faster and cheaper, and, quite frankly, there’s a real knowledge gap at work too; most Americans don’t know how to make soup stock or whipped cream or macaroni and cheese from scratch.
I also think the reason we’re enamored of it is that the pushers at Big Food have packed processed foods with so much sugar, salt and MSG that we’ve gotten hooked and think it tastes better. If you get unaddicted, the difference is amazing. I can’t eat a can of Campbell’s soup anymore because I find the salt and additive taste overwhelming, but as a kid I mainlined the stuff.
my kids will carve on my tombstone: One time she served green mush.
It was pureed chickpeas with spinach in there. To make it worse I added over-cooked chorizo slices. They were interchangeable with poker chips.
@gherkinette: No argument at all. That’s the way I was brought up in the 1950′s and 1960′s. Cooking classes in middle and high school should be mandatory, and they should really teach basic cooking skills instead of making pudding and Christmas cookies or whatever they teach now. Anthony Bourdain has a really good chapter on this in “Medium Raw,” I believe. He can be a jerk, but when he’s right he’s right.
@MM: Bourdain has always railed against TV “cooks” like Rachael Ray and Sandra Lee who use processed gloop. But there’s a very funny chapter in “Medium Raw” where he reports on how Sandra Lee took her revenge (I hate Sandra Lee’s “semi-homemade” cooking, but as a person, I like her a great deal).
Macaroni-and-cheese and omelettes were the first thing I learned to make. You can imagine what my early attempts looked like… Mmmmm *lumpy*
One time I decided to grill eggplant at a cookout. (Why, god, why?) It truly tasted like death.
I’m going to out myself as a really poor cook – I don’t like cooking, it’s always a chore, and I’m generally uncomfortable in the kitchen. I do use and enjoy canned veggies and boxed mac’n'cheese. Part of it is that I’m lactose intolerant, and both boxed mac’n'cheese has very little dairy, which means i can have a creamy/cheesy tasting meal without having to take a (pricey) enzyme pill. But the rest I use because they’re cheap, pre-measured, and I feel that I would really have to WORK to screw up that recipe. I have about 6 recipes that I use, and most of them use canned food.
I know I sound defensive, and I am, a little bit. I know all the arguments for fresh and homemade food, but I don’t have the skill level or, frankly, the inclination or time to gain the skill level. I spent a summer learning those 6 recipes – and the rest of my attempts would live quite nicely on this thread if i remembered precisely what I made. However, I, too, have blocked them out.
And as far as I’m concerned, most pie is simply a Cool Whip delivery device. Except pumpkin pie. And then, pumpkin pie is not complete without the Cool Whip.
I’m a true culinary american I suppose, even though it makes me sad.
The other day I bought my son a cake for a party with real whipped cream frosting. He was surprised that it didn’t taste like Cool Whip. This, even though his dad makes him hot chocolate with real whip cream at least twice every winter.
I’m a good baker, but ever so often I fail to listen to my intuition when a recipe isn’t quite right. My most memorable was a coconut “pie” which featured a self-forming crust. It was basically a custard with extra flour and butter. I had memories of similar dishes from my childhood (achieved via the use of bisquick) so I decided to give it a try. Never has something which smelled so good tasted so gross. It was dense, greasy, and way too eggy.
The worse main-dish fail was a valentine’s day dinner featuring some steak marinated in spiced wine. It was supposed to be flavorful and tender, but in reality it was charcoal with a bloody interior.
I will put it out there that I’m a great cook. There are only a few things I’ll admit to being good at and cooking is number one. I had to learn to survive, mom didn’t cook. I think I only ate Kraft mac and cheese till I was twelve. Anyways, I have an apparent issue with pumpkin bread. No matter the recipe, it turns out way too moist. Flat. Wet. GROSS. My husband tries to pretend it’s edible. It’s not. Yuck. It kills me not to be able to produce a pretty, perfect loaf. I can bake anything. I should be able to do this! Do pumpkins hate me? Ugh, massive frustration. I did manage pumpkin muffins recently, so maybe there’s hope.
@mischiefmanager – My mom’s second career is as a teacher and she teaches what used to be called Home Ec (it’s now Family and Consumer Sciences). She was really appalled to discover how little her students knew about cooking (one memorable group of children added the sauce to the pasta before draining it) so basic cooking skills are her main focus now.
Personally I was pretty shocked when I pulled out a carton of heavy cream to make whipped cream (to go with pumpkin pie) and my (now) husband asked what I was doing. Although his mother cooks (and taught him the basics) he had never had real whipped cream before.
The most memorable bad thing I’ve made was lavender lime-ade. I made it with key lime juice. As the poor friend I subjected to it said, “it tastes like dish detergent!”
I’ve been a food writer for years, and saw a lot of food trends. The grossest chef one was the tobacco phase. Yeah, I really enjoy nicotine-infused creme brulee!
I also do a weekly column that’s mainly a recipe swap. People ask for some pretty gross recipes, and usually, those are the ones way too many readers have stashed away. The worst had to be “Bejeweled Franks.”
That’s a casserole made with hot dogs, fruit cocktail and curry. My editor confessed later he almost threw up while copy-editing it.
I’m gonna co-sign on just about everything Shadow Boxer said.
I’m not a cook. I don’t like cooking and I don’t have the time for it. I’m a full-time grad student and I’m also holding down a job, doing volunteer work, and dealing with a commute. And my partner and I have schedules that don’t match up perfectly, which makes it harder to coordinate meals.
I wish I could be one of those “Yay, cooking!” kind of people, but I’m just not. Though, I have the sneaking suspicion I’d like cooking more if I had more time.
Also, yes to wanting a little pie with my Cool Whip. >;
I will say, in defense of Cool Whip, that it’s pretty tasty and has its place. I have a soft spot for Cool Whip and Jello parfaits. Virtually no natural ingredients in either, but still…pretty fucking awesome.
The half-way point, if you don’t feel like whipping cream yourself, which most people don’t, is Redi-Whip in a can. The texture’s not as good, but it contains (and tastes like) actual dairy cream.
@JetGirl: I nearly threw up at just that one-line description of “Bejeweled Franks” so I salute the copyeditor for making it through the longer version.
One year, when I was about 23, my brother had been hit by a car and was in a wheelchair for months while he recovered. For Thanksgiving, I bought this gorgeous turkey from Whole Foods and drove it to his place to cook for him, his partner, and a few friends.
I had seen some recommended recipe on a reputable TV show, and decided to try it. It looked delicious… various whole herbs, brown sugar, soy sauce, mustard, etc rubbed under the skin, and placed inside the turkey.
I put it in to bake and… the smell, oh god, the smell. It filled the apartment with the smell of fresh vomit… for HOURS while it cooked. We were all gagging.
The turkey turned out to be most delicious turkey any of us had ever had. However, I’ve never made the recipe again due to the overwhelming stench of vomit.
I’m a fairly good cook – I make awesome cakes (mostly) and I do a good line in hearty winter food – stews, casseroles (is there a difference?) lasagne, moussaka, that kind of thing.
I cannot make biscuits or cookies to save my life though. I’ve tried all sorts of recipes, bought entire books just about making cookies and I have never yet managed to make anything respectable. Which makes me sad, because I love cookies, and I love baking!
I will draw a veil over my first attempt at school cookery – a swiss roll which my family still tease me about 20 years later. I had a lot to live up to as a kid, cooking-wise, my mum and sisters were all culinary domestic goddesses, so I never really did until I was at university. My (now ex) boyfriend and I learned to cook over the phone to my sister, and I’ve never looked back.
@Shadow Boxer – I too am not a good cook, in fact pretty dreadful. my cooking exploits are so extensive that I excel best at ‘cooking’ anything raw, baked beans on toast, and cereal with milk. If feeling fancy I can ‘cook’ veges in the microwave.
My family likes to remind me of the numerous times I’ve wrecked pots from the cooking act of boiling water.
For all these reasons this is why my quick dials on my mobile are cheap and great tasting restaurants. I’m great with the recommends of food making establishments
I do a lot of experimental cooking and baking (i.e. recipe testing), because I write a food blog, so I’ve had my fair share of dismal failures in the kitchen.
The worst was probably my attempt at brie ice cream. The taste was great, but the texture was truly awful — grainy and chalky. Blerf. It wasn’t a total loss, though. The blackberry coulis I made to go with it was delightful.
Oh, and though I love to cook and bake, I don’t knock the processed convenience foods. They’ve become a staple in my diet since I lost my job three months ago. They’re generally more filling than the produce, grains, meats, and fresh dairy products I’d normally cook with, they don’t spoil as quickly, and between sales and coupons at my grocery store, they’re a fraction of the cost.
I once tried to make a lasagna out of Chef Boyardee beefaroni, saltine crackers and processed swiss cheese.
Try not to dwell on that mental taste.
OK, so our Harpy Fail Dinner Party Menu is:
Hors d’oeuvres: JetGirl’s Bejeweled Franks
Salad: baraqiel’s Russian potato salad
Soup: Gherkinette’s clove and celeriac soup
Buffet of Mains:
Becky’s Grandmee’s Processed Food Chicken
Gherkinette’s Salt Cod and Leek Stir Fry
rodriguez’s Green Mush
Plum-Pie’s Mac & Cheese and Omelettes
OHN’s Grilled Eggplant
MA’s Lasagne
For the gluten-intolerant: Es’s biscuits and TJ’s Pumpkin Bread
Desserts:
Bake Up’s Brie Ice Cream
annimal’s Coconut Pie
And to wash it all down, JetGirl’s lavender limeade
The evening’s entertainment will be me regaling all of you with 20+ years’s worth of failed brisket stories. :-/
This was fun – I’ve got my nastyass coconut pie and an ample supply of pepto-bismol ready for the dinner party!
On a related note, how about the opposite – when good food happens to bad cooks. Got a fool-proof recipe for those people who can’t boil water, or those who can but are still looking for something yummy and easy?
I nominate my BFF’s mom’s bacon-wrapped water chestnuts. She could butcher even the simplest recipes, which led to BFF eating over at my house at least a few times a week. However, the bacon wrapped water chestnuts were the bomb. I never saw the actual recipe, but it must’ve been something like – wrap water chestnuts in bacon, marinate in soy sauce, and bake. on nom nom!
My favourite fool-proof recipe is white rice with sauteed mushrooms and sauteed pineapples. No sauce. No meat. Just saute the mushrooms and pineapples together in the skillet while the rice is in the rice cooker. When you’re done, mix it all together in a bowl and eat. Plus, it’s vegan. ^^
I second aanimals suggestion- when good food happens to bad cooks!
@annimal & Ms M: We will do it!
As a self-nominated bad cook, anything that could help expand recipes, especially ones that are pretty hard to Fuck up, are pretty welcome.
If looking for an experimental kitchen to report results, I’m happy to oblige.
I’m generally a good cook. I also absolutely love spicy food – the spicier the better, in my book. Or so I thought, until I made the infamous Chipotle Chicken. My dad (who got me hooked on spicy food in the first place) and I managed to choke some down, but it was so mouth-burningly hot that we couldn’t finish it. How hot was it? Let’s just say it still hurt the next day.
Worse, I repeated this with an ex-boyfriend several years later. I only used half a can of chipotle chilies this time, but no difference. Once again, neither of us could stand to eat it. Never again!
@viajera: That reminds me of the time my sister tried to make a spice cake. The recipe called for a teaspoon of cloves, but she put in a tablespoon instead. It was totally the opposite of your chipotle experience—cloves can have a numbing effect if you chew them, and biting into that cake, the cloves were so strong that our mouths went a little numb!
The worst thing I ever served was tofu cookies. I think I tripled the amount of tofu it called for (just trying to use it up!) They were really weird, but even weirder….everyone ate them.
I guess enough chocolate makes damn near anything go down:)
Oh, oh! I thought of another one. During the low-carb nonsense of the late 1990s I found a recipe that promised I could eat a DELISHUSS muffin for breakfast without eating carbs.
The “batter” was actually just egg whites beaten with Splenda and poured into a muffin pan, then baked.
It was so very disgusting, and even more disappointing. Imagine you’re starving and irritable from your stupid-ass diet, and expecting to be satisfied by an honest-to-goodness muffin, and instead bite into a Splenda quiche.
I don’t diet anymore.
Judge me if you want, but I’ve made that exact cranberry chicken (I asked for the recipe after a friend served it for dinner) and think it’s delish. Everyone I’ve ever made it for, and everyone my friend ever made it for liked it and wanted the recipe. I haven’t made it in quite some time since I try to avoid processed foods now. But it really is yummy over rice, especially if you like the sweet/salty flavor combo.
@Tall: Grandmee would be happy to know someone appreciated that recipe. She served it with rice, too.
[...] the lively discussion sparked by my post When Bad Food Happens to Good Cooks, commenter annimal proposed the [...]