Day O Mayo

You’ve heard me talk about how much I like to feed people. That said, in food as in life, it sucks when something doesn’t come out right.

I’m either a decent cook or I’ve been lucky. It doesn’t happen often. The Moroccan stuffed-zucchini-in-yoghurt-sauce was salvageable. Melva said it was fine. She’s my mother, so take that the way I took it, with a pinch of Hawaiian pink salt.

But then there was the Ranch Dressing. Cue ominous sound effect.

My friend is a phenomenal cook. It was her recipe. When it didn’t come out quite right, I knew the error was mine. I dumped it out and tried again. I minced chives. I measured ingredients with more care than a pharmacist. I couldn’t lose that mayonnaise-y aftertaste.

I stood there glaring at the jar of mayonnaise. (Trust me, you get loopy when you’re alone in the kitchen.) Then I saw it.

“Best by Feb 02 2011”

Insert the cuss words of your choice here. Mine were fairly obvious and unimaginative.

I got suspicious. I went to that shelf in the fridge. You know the one, with the jars of stuff you used maybe twice after you got it.

Cue montage.

Besides the expired mayonnaise, I just threw out: ketchup, yellow mustard, low sodium soy sauce, tamari, a fossilized tube of anchovy paste, three jars of curry paste (two Indian, one Thai), three jars of salad dressing (two more were fine), that yellow Peruvian sauce that’s so delicious in the restaurant and so bad in a jar from the supermarket and a spray bottle of “I can’t believe it’s not butter” that expired in 2007.

The moral of this story is – nah, I got nothing. There is no moral. I just wanted to vent.

Cue credits.