I'm Just Riffing Here!
Living in the Land of Poop
5/8/24
It all started with the brownies...and then the bread...and finally the potato soup.
A perfect storm.
The Brownies
This past Sunday I decided to make brownies from scratch. Napoleon gave me a Baker's Chocolate "One Bowl Brownie" recipe from her recipe book.
Sure, I will give it a try seeing as I didn't feel like washing more dishes. What could go wrong with a "One Bowl Brownie" recipe?
Lots.
Napoleon specifically told me the recipe was weird and the last time she made it the brownies were rubbery and inedible.
Red Flag!
Of course being the doofus I am, I ignored her red flag and continued on with the recipe.
I followed the recipe and noticed after I added all the ingredients together, the brownie mix in the bowl looked kind of weird. Weird in a gross poop sort of way. Light brown color with bubbles and white bits floating amongst the poop.
OK. I read the recipe again and noticed there was no leavening agent (baking soda or powder).
Weird.
I debated adding a leavening agent, but I decided to follow the recipe to a "T" as the experts at Baker's Chocolate know better than me, right?
The recipe said to line a 13"x9" pan with greased foil. I thought the pan seemed kind of large for the recipe, plus what is up with the foil? Usually I just spray my pans with non stick spray. But I must follow the recipe to a "T" as the experts at Baker's Chocolate know better than me.
I poured the brownie batter into the foil lined pan. It looked even worse. The poo batter barely covered the foil. They were going to be the thinnest brownies ever.
Into the oven the brownie batter went.
Thirty minutes later I pulled out the pan from the oven.
What a disaster.
Now I know why the foil was required in the recipe...the baked brownies were flat, rubbery, with white bits floating amongst the sickly poop colored baked batter. The foil was the only way to lift the poop brownies out of the pan. (Of course the poop brownies were still stuck to the foil.)
Sigh.
I knew the recipe was a disaster from the get go, but like a soldier I marched on toward the disaster.
I let the brownies cool (thinking maybe they will magically get better). I then cut the brownies into squares. At least I “tried” to cut the poop brownies into squares. The "brownie squares" fell apart and stuck to my knife. I threw them into an airtight container. I was sick of the whole process.
I tasted a mangled poop brownie square.
Yuck. Tasted like rubbery plastic with grainy white bits.
Beautiful.
Into the trash the poop brownies went.
On to the bread...
The same day I made the poop brownies, I decided to attempt to make homemade rye bread, seeing as store bought bread always tastes like chemicals to me.
I searched the dead internet and found a rye bread recipe from King Arthur's Flour. I followed the recipe, however I didn't follow it to a "T" because after the brownie disaster, I thought I knew better...guess I didn't.
I added wheat flour instead of bread flour (as the recipe called for) with the rye flour because I had seen other rye bread recipes that used the rye/wheat combo. The recipe also did not say to activate the yeast, like I normally do for all yeast recipes. I should have activated the yeast seeing as I added heavy wheat flour, but no, I threw the dry yeast in with the flour just like the recipe stated.
Two hours later my rye bread dough was a lifeless poop colored lump.
Even proofing the dough in my sauna did nothing to awaken the yeast. Oh well. I soldiered on and plopped the poop dough into a bread pan and shoved it back into my sauna for the second proof.
Like *that* was going to work.
One hour later the poop colored rye bread dough was still DOA.
Oh well. I soldiered on and stuffed the poop bread into the oven. Thirty minutes later I pulled the bread pan out of the oven early as I was sick of looking at the lifeless pile of poop. Why waste anymore of my natural gas cooking a pile of poop?
Into the trash the poop bread went with the poop brownies. That trash can was heavy with poop.
Napoleon came home and said "I guess the brownies and bread didn't work out?"
Me (agitated and pissed off): "I am DONE. I just want to punch that brownie recipe and get it out of my life!"
At least I didn't throw the poop brownies or rye bread against the wall. In the past I might have done that, but now I am too tired and old to clean up a dirty wall covered with my failed attempts at baking.
On to the potato soup...
After a day of baking disasters, Napoleon decided to try her hand at cooking potato soup. Her potato soup recipe is a good recipe that works every time...except when she uses heavy cream in it.
At least for me.
My stomach does not tolerate heavy cream in many recipes. Especially heavy cream that curdles in hot liquids such as soups. The last few times Napoleon made potato soup she did not use heavy cream, and my stomach was fine eating it.
This time as Napoleon was making the soup she asked me "Should I use heavy cream?"
I said "Sure." Why not? Heavy cream doesn't bother her stomach and she is making the soup.
Sunday night we ate the potato soup and all was well.
The following day we had leftover potato soup for dinner. We both microwaved the soup to heat it up.
By the time I went to bed at 8:30 pm all was well.
I woke up at 11:30 pm with a weird stomach ache. I went to the bathroom, assuming I needed to do a poop.
Nothing came out.
I went back to bed. I slept to 3:30 am. I woke up and lay in bed waiting for my cat Rusty to start his caterwauling (he does it every morning starting at 3 am).
Silence.
I waited 10 minutes. It was now 3:40 am. Still not a peep from Rusty.
Weird.
I got out of bed and walked to the hallway to go downstairs to find Rusty when I noticed something felt squishy in my underwear/pajamas. I went into the bathroom and saw I had pooped my pants in the middle of the night.
Are you kidding me?
I guess not.
After my weird stomach ache I must have had diarrhea in the middle of the night, all while I slept, oblivious to the whole pooping fiasco going on under the sheets.
Off went my pajamas, sheets and mattress protector into the washing machine. I threw out the underwear because it could not be saved.
Napoleon woke up at 4:30 am and noticed my bed stripped of all its sheets.
She asked "Did Rusty pee or poop on your bed again?"
Me: "Nope. I pooped on my bed."
Napoleon laughed and shook her head and said "I guess you can't yell at Rusty and the old lady for their pooping problems anymore."
Yup. I have been humbled by poop.
I now understand poop happens. My old cat Rusty has poop problems, sometimes he poops in his box but usually he poops on the floor wherever he feels like.
My mom, who is 83 years old, also has pooping problems, she is always constipated (for weeks) and we are constantly feeding her prunes, bran and stool softeners to get her to poop.
Now I have pooping problems. Pooping in my sleep.
Nice.
Beautiful.
Oh well, I have now walked in poop filled shoes. I now understand poop happens and it is not a big deal. We all gotta poop.
I "ass"-ume my poop fiasco was the result of curdling the heavy cream in the potato soup heating it up in the microwave. I didn't have any soup yesterday and no poop under the sheets last night.
My stomach is still funny. And I am still pooping tarry turds for the past two days.
Oh well, I am back to eating toast.
I’m sorry to laugh at your cooking and digestion misadventures, but….😂🤣😂
Seriously, though, your story reminds me of the time when, just a few months after we were married, I decided to make a beef roast dinner for my husband, who was a meat and taters kind of guy (still is). The roast didn’t turn out so tender (I used an inexpensive cut meant for braising, not roasting) so I put it in my new, wedding gift blender with a little beef broth. You can just imagine what that looked like. Ever hear of SOS? Military chow term. Even garnishing didn’t make it look appetizing.
What a crack up!! The older I get the more I dislike cooking and baking because of the changes in our foods. Old recipes don't seem to work for me either and then I no longer have my sense of taste and smell so that's depressing to try to cook without having any way to do a taste test. My hubs will still ask me if I like my food. We went out for our anniversary to eat and sure enough he asked me if my fish tasted good. I gave him the evil eye until he realized again that I haven't had any ability of taste or smell for four years!!