Never be afraid to fail or what I learned from corn cakes
We had guests this past weekend and guests may not really be the right word because these guys are more like family.
Dave was my husband's football coach in high school and he and his wife Susan are very close friends with my mother-in-law. Their grandson Jack is a smart, funny 17-year-old young man who is a true racing enthusiast.
For the last three years, Dave and Jack have come to the Mid-Ohio Sports Car Course for the Honda Indy 200. The track is just north of our house and we've had the pleasure of hosting them for the weekend.
Not only do we get to hang out with people we love, this annual visit gives me a chance to put on a spread of summer food and beverages for more than just two people, so it's almost like a holiday and I think I enjoy it more than anyone.
Trying new recipes is my hobby, but I usually try a new concoction only on Phil. He's a willing test subject and he's honest but not brutal — because I am not now nor will I ever be a contestant on Top Chef.
On Friday I was bee-bopping around the house getting it all clean and presentable, as I do, when I saw a recipe on the Food Network that caught my eye: grilled corn cakes.
Sounds like summer in the Midwest to me. And only a few ingredients, most of which I already had on hand? Sure! Sign me up, Giada de Laurentiis. Hope you don't mind if I sub some really good pepper jack cheese for the smoked mozzarella, though.
Saturday night was our grilling night, so I gave the corn a spin in the food processor to make it slightly creamy but still corny, just like Giada said. I mixed that with the right amount of pepper jack cheese, which has the same consistency as mozzarella BTW, and the exact amounts of bread crumbs, sour cream and seasoning in Giada's recipe.
I even used an ice cream scoop, just like Giada, to make portion them out and make patties. Practically twinsies, me and G. We should hang out in her Malibu beach house, sip Italian wine and share kitchen tips. And of course we would invite Ina Garten to join us.
After I got over my girl-crush-daydream, I fried my corn cakes in a skillet instead of grilling them because our grill was crowded with hot dogs, hamburgers and barbecue shrimp. Phil hates to share grill space, a perpetual problem in our marriage but one I am willing to forgive because he's so damn adorable.
I got the cakes beautifully brown and then I tasted one, all alone in my kitchen, while everyone else was outside enjoying a beverage while Phil manned the grill.
Ugh. The fritters fizzled. They were dry, crumbly and flavorless, despite the presence of top quality Murray's pepper jack cheese. So. Disappointed. This may be one of many reasons that the only Malibu beach house I will ever own fits a Barbie, not a Giada.
I tossed the crappy cakes in the trash, unable to serve this dish with any pride to guests. I might have shed a metaphorical tear for wasting all that great cheese.
But then I second guessed myself, as I do. Maybe I should have served them. Maybe I should take a chance that, even when things aren't exactly perfect, they can still be OK. Maybe I shouldn't be afraid to fail.
Nah.
Those really sucked.
Sometimes you just have to embrace it and learn from it. Stop the second guessing. Toss that loser in the garbage and say, well shit, what can I do differently? How can I make that better?
Next time: More sour cream, less bread crumbs and use mozzarella. Also maybe find out where Giada buys her corn because it's clearly creamier and tastier than mine.
Every failure is a lesson.
