Fine Dining

A few days ago I got a call from someone in the ward asking if I would take dinner to a family with a new baby. Sure, no problem, I like to cook. I figured I would just make two of whatever we were having that night.

I woke up yesterday morning thinking about how I would plan my day to ensure that I got the food done and delivered at the appointed time. We had chicken enchiladas on the menu and they seem to be an easily transported meal. In the morning I cooked rice, Peter and I grated cheese (well, I grated, he ate), I cooked the tortillas (because we use these), I thought that we were well on our way to everything coming together on time.

The best-laid plans and all that. It wasn't until their pan of enchiladas was in the oven that I looked over and saw half a can of cream of chicken soup sitting on the counter, the same soup that should have been in the sauce that I had just poured over the full tortillas. I had left out the main ingredient. Frustrated, I realized I had totally messed up their dinner.

This is like the fourth time this has happened. Last year I took dinner to a new mom in the ward. I tried to make zucchini bread, but didn't have any eggs. I never have eggs these days, so I used a substitute. However, I also used honey instead of sugar because it was a double batch (half for us, half for them) and the loaf refused to hold together. Then there was the Spanish rice fiasco, which I won't go into. When I cook for us the food is fine, but when I have to take it to someone else, something goes terribly wrong. Okay, not terribly, but it's not great.

I ended up giving them the second pan that I had been making for us. Honestly, the flubbed batch wasn't bad, we could have given it to them. It would have saved me the stress of making a fast bunch of cookies to take as an apology, which they didn't need because the second pan came out in time to deliver.

Maybe next time I'll take them cheese sandwiches and oranges. I don't think I could mess that up.