Welcome to Chopped! The rules are simple - you have 15 min to create your dessert masterpiece and you must use every ingredient in the basket. Today’s mystery ingredients are…
...cinnamon...canned pumpkin...nutella...and golden raisins. Time starts now.
My wife, our munchkins and I are big fans of the Food Network show Chopped. The show’s premise is that four chefs get a basket of four mystery ingredients and 15-30 minutes to prepare a dish featuring the ingredients but also using anything in the kitchen’s pantry. Whoever’s dish is the worst is chopped and does not progress to the next round. The first round an appetizer must be prepared, the second an entrée and the third a dessert. A recent show’s appetizer round mystery ingredients consisted of teething biscuits, Hungarian hot peppers, raspberries and canned haggis. The chefs had 15 minutes to cook.
Anyway, our girls decided for our weekly family night that Mom and I should engage in our own Chopped dessert round duel. Four of our munchkins would each pick an ingredient and we would have 15 minutes to prepare our dishes. Once time was up, our ingredient-pickers would turn into the panel of judges to decide who the better cook is and who should be chopped.
As our cute monkeys debated on which ingredients to pick, I started to chortle, which, in turn, subsequently led to giggling, snickering, guffawing and evil laughing. Bec, perplexed, asked for the source of such raucous mirth. I stifled my evil laughter and stated that I knew what I was going to make and that I was going to win the competition hands down. When she asked how I could possibly know what I was going to make before I knew the ingredients I had to just smile. That, perhaps, was my mistake. She was on to me. (‘course, it doesn’t help that I am basically a one trick cooking pony) Her sinister intentions were about to be made known.
At that moment, our girls decided they had finished picking the ingredients and off we went. They chose nutella, canned pumpkin, yellow raisins and cinnamon. “Go!” yelled a munchkin, starting the clock, and Bec immediately started grabbing all the stuff I needed to make my French toast dessert masterpiece, to include relocating several items from my workstation to hers. Incredulously, I quickly ascertained what she was doing and called her on it. She laughed and informed me that not only was I in a dog-eat-dog competition, but I was wearing Milkbone™ underwear. Well, if she was going to steal my French toast idea, I had to make sure to win.
She proceeded to make her French toast wash out of canned pumpkin, eggs, milk, vanilla and cinnamon and started cooking. (Did I mention she used all the pieces of bread at my station forcing me to get a loaf of bread out of the freezer? French toast with frozen bread? I was doomed.) She also made a chocolate/nutella ganache to put on the French toast and nuked the yellow raisins in cream and put them on top. (Nuked! In a cooking competition?!!?? I only hoped the judges were taking note of the heinous crimes she was committing.) She later declared her dish “delicious” in a conversation with her sister but didn’t so much as acknowledge my dish. Meanie head!
I on the other hand, prepared a normal French toast wash from milk, eggs and love and started cooking, placing a light dusting of cinnamon on each side of the golden brown bread. As they were happily toasting on the griddle – which my frau had grabbed from me and deigned to let me use half of – I prepared a pumpkin, nutella and cream topping. I daresay it was right on point. Additionally, I gingerly placed the raisins in a cast iron skillet with some sugar and started to carmelize them.
Time was quickly passing by. I opted to use real plates when my wife asked if we should use paper. I cheerfully reminded her that this was a competition and no self-respecting chef served a dish on paper plates in a cooking competition. With less than 30 seconds remaining, I had my French toast and pumpkin topping on the plate but it was clear I was lacking one final element. I sprinted to the fridge, threw open the door, grabbed the cream whipper and gave each piece of French toast a kiss sized dollop upon which I placed my carmelized raisins with 1.32 seconds to spare. “Time!” yelled the timekeeper and I looked over and saw my sweet bride, in clear violation of Chopped rules, continuing to put food on plates. Naturally, I calmly pointed out to the judges the egregious error she was committing. While I was sure our daughters would pick Mom’s dish over mine – mainly because I say “boys rule, girls drool” far too much – I had a clear conscience and I’m able to look myself in the mirror.
After presenting our food to the judges, we were excused from the kitchen so they could deliberate. I had stolen a bite of Mom’s dessert from our 2 year old when she wasn’t looking so I knew I was up against some stiff competition and said so. Mom’s response was full of surprises, literally. She said she was sure my nutella/pumpkin topping would be “terrible” but was surprised it wasn’t. She thought the raisins would be “nasty” and was surprised when they weren’t. And, she was surprised at how it almost tasted good together. (I think her exact words were, “I was successfully able to suppress the gag reflex while plugging my nose and choking down your swill.”) I secretly hoped she would be surprised at the result from the judges as well.
We marched back into the kitchen and stood before the judges to hear their ruling. They declared that Mom’s food had received perfect marks in taste, presentation and creativity and mine had not. However, she had lost enough points from not finishing on time that I was the victor. Ha! I had beaten her at her own game and was declared best chef in the house!
Our girls have already decided we need to do Chopped dessert again next week. It should be fun and the good news is I already know what I’m going to make.
My wife, our munchkins and I are big fans of the Food Network show Chopped. The show’s premise is that four chefs get a basket of four mystery ingredients and 15-30 minutes to prepare a dish featuring the ingredients but also using anything in the kitchen’s pantry. Whoever’s dish is the worst is chopped and does not progress to the next round. The first round an appetizer must be prepared, the second an entrée and the third a dessert. A recent show’s appetizer round mystery ingredients consisted of teething biscuits, Hungarian hot peppers, raspberries and canned haggis. The chefs had 15 minutes to cook.
Anyway, our girls decided for our weekly family night that Mom and I should engage in our own Chopped dessert round duel. Four of our munchkins would each pick an ingredient and we would have 15 minutes to prepare our dishes. Once time was up, our ingredient-pickers would turn into the panel of judges to decide who the better cook is and who should be chopped.
As our cute monkeys debated on which ingredients to pick, I started to chortle, which, in turn, subsequently led to giggling, snickering, guffawing and evil laughing. Bec, perplexed, asked for the source of such raucous mirth. I stifled my evil laughter and stated that I knew what I was going to make and that I was going to win the competition hands down. When she asked how I could possibly know what I was going to make before I knew the ingredients I had to just smile. That, perhaps, was my mistake. She was on to me. (‘course, it doesn’t help that I am basically a one trick cooking pony) Her sinister intentions were about to be made known.
At that moment, our girls decided they had finished picking the ingredients and off we went. They chose nutella, canned pumpkin, yellow raisins and cinnamon. “Go!” yelled a munchkin, starting the clock, and Bec immediately started grabbing all the stuff I needed to make my French toast dessert masterpiece, to include relocating several items from my workstation to hers. Incredulously, I quickly ascertained what she was doing and called her on it. She laughed and informed me that not only was I in a dog-eat-dog competition, but I was wearing Milkbone™ underwear. Well, if she was going to steal my French toast idea, I had to make sure to win.
She proceeded to make her French toast wash out of canned pumpkin, eggs, milk, vanilla and cinnamon and started cooking. (Did I mention she used all the pieces of bread at my station forcing me to get a loaf of bread out of the freezer? French toast with frozen bread? I was doomed.) She also made a chocolate/nutella ganache to put on the French toast and nuked the yellow raisins in cream and put them on top. (Nuked! In a cooking competition?!!?? I only hoped the judges were taking note of the heinous crimes she was committing.) She later declared her dish “delicious” in a conversation with her sister but didn’t so much as acknowledge my dish. Meanie head!
I on the other hand, prepared a normal French toast wash from milk, eggs and love and started cooking, placing a light dusting of cinnamon on each side of the golden brown bread. As they were happily toasting on the griddle – which my frau had grabbed from me and deigned to let me use half of – I prepared a pumpkin, nutella and cream topping. I daresay it was right on point. Additionally, I gingerly placed the raisins in a cast iron skillet with some sugar and started to carmelize them.
Time was quickly passing by. I opted to use real plates when my wife asked if we should use paper. I cheerfully reminded her that this was a competition and no self-respecting chef served a dish on paper plates in a cooking competition. With less than 30 seconds remaining, I had my French toast and pumpkin topping on the plate but it was clear I was lacking one final element. I sprinted to the fridge, threw open the door, grabbed the cream whipper and gave each piece of French toast a kiss sized dollop upon which I placed my carmelized raisins with 1.32 seconds to spare. “Time!” yelled the timekeeper and I looked over and saw my sweet bride, in clear violation of Chopped rules, continuing to put food on plates. Naturally, I calmly pointed out to the judges the egregious error she was committing. While I was sure our daughters would pick Mom’s dish over mine – mainly because I say “boys rule, girls drool” far too much – I had a clear conscience and I’m able to look myself in the mirror.
After presenting our food to the judges, we were excused from the kitchen so they could deliberate. I had stolen a bite of Mom’s dessert from our 2 year old when she wasn’t looking so I knew I was up against some stiff competition and said so. Mom’s response was full of surprises, literally. She said she was sure my nutella/pumpkin topping would be “terrible” but was surprised it wasn’t. She thought the raisins would be “nasty” and was surprised when they weren’t. And, she was surprised at how it almost tasted good together. (I think her exact words were, “I was successfully able to suppress the gag reflex while plugging my nose and choking down your swill.”) I secretly hoped she would be surprised at the result from the judges as well.
We marched back into the kitchen and stood before the judges to hear their ruling. They declared that Mom’s food had received perfect marks in taste, presentation and creativity and mine had not. However, she had lost enough points from not finishing on time that I was the victor. Ha! I had beaten her at her own game and was declared best chef in the house!
Our girls have already decided we need to do Chopped dessert again next week. It should be fun and the good news is I already know what I’m going to make.
Awesome!!! I love it. You guys are the best. Especially reading it from the perspective of b.r.g.d. (which is also funny and very appropriate)
ReplyDeleteLOL! This had me laughing the whole way through. Love it! I think we should totally do this for a combined FHE someday when you're all in town. Of course... I'll be a judge and not a cook for that day. Very fun and thanks for sharing.
ReplyDelete"Good form, Peter, good form"
ReplyDelete