I already know what you’re thinking: “Okay, this recipe is sooooooo simple even Eve can handle it.” And you know what? You’d be dead wrong. Again.
I don’t know if it’s because the Jambalaya cookbook that I turn to most often is written by the Junior League in New Orleans and presumed to be read by real cooks, or if I’m just stupid. You decide.
“6 strips of bacon cut into 1-inch pieces” Is that before or after cooking? And how do I tell if it’s one inch after cooking when the pieces are curled up more than a cat on top of a hot TV?
“1/3 cup chopped onion” How do you buy it like that? Buy one onion and hope to have another recipe soon to utilize the rest? Do you cut the whole onion or just half
guessing knowing it will last longer cut or whole? (And stored where – fridge or pantry?) Buy it for three times the price already cut thinking it looked like 1/3 cup and would take 1/3 the time. Yes, I chose the latter.
Ten ounce can tomato puree. Another time I had to call Eddie from the market. How in the world did we develop a need for an entire 4 shelves of tomato parts? And what has that world come to when I finally find the puree but it was either seasoned or in a friggin NINE oz can?
The final dig? That this recipe, with what, 4 sentences of description, either assumed I would know to drain off the bacon grease or enjoy watching my family use a profuse number of napkins to keep their chins oil-free?
Anyway, I did vow to make the recipe again, sans bacon grease, it really was quite tasty. We paired it with a Vodka martini…it cut through it all – even all my BSing – just fine thank you.
(Yes, I discovered a program, via a youthful contact, that could enhance some of these recipes I was forced to photograph when I couldn’t find them online. The old girl can learn a new trick. Just not in the kitchen)