Ever have a phenomenon or a situation that you need a word for and there isn’t a word?
I had one today.
After much thought, I decide to make a quiche for lunch. This is not ground-breaking stuff for me, I first made a quiche at the age of about 14, at school. I set to with flour and butter etc and the first setback occurrs. My kitchen scales, which have been increasingly arsy about things, keep weighing everything at zero g, even when I try switchign to oz. I am left to estimate how much butter I’ve got (50g) and then estimate 100g flour to go with it.
Anyone who bakes and is reading this knows that guessing quantities when baking is primarily a recipe for disaster.
Roll out pastry, line pie dish, put in oven to blind bake, mix milk and egg, chop mushroom and ham, grate cheese. get pastry out of oven and observe shrinkage. Not just shrinkage but holes in the pastry.
Put doings in pastry anyway, pour in milk/egg mixture, listen to it sizzle as it gets through the holes and on to the pie dish, put it back in oven, bake 25 minutes more, got it out and it’s still wobbly so decide . . . to finish it off in the microwave.
Yes, you know your cooking hasn’t gone well when you decide it needs nuking.
Remove from microwave, note that it’s still a bit liquid, pour off liquid.
Attempt to slice. Yank. Yank. Rive. Where the egg/milk has got through the pastry, it’s sticking. Surprise. Tip thing on to plate, unpeeling from pie dish as I go, and decorate with ketchup.
It does taste surprisingly good.
I’d had a vision in my head of a browned and tempting work of art, with little bits of mushroom smiling up from an eggy setting.
Instead it looked like a particularlly nasty accident.
Photo? You have very odd tastes.
So that’s the word I’m missing. The difference between my fond imagining and the horrible reality.
‘Lacuna’ might do.