On a summer visit to Baton Rouge, my sister-in-law, Peggy, brought us a surprise dinner. She combined cooked rice with freshly chopped shrimp and crab meat, and the result was the most scrumptious rice mixture I’ve ever tasted.

“Can I have the recipe?” I asked, hoping the meal would be easy to make. I don’t have a lot of confidence in the kitchen as the high number of uneaten casseroles in our fridge will confirm.

I keep trying to copy recipes, similar to the poor souls who attempt something they saw on Pinterest. Like them, my results are “nailed it” with disastrous results.

There’s my stab at making a King Ranch Casserole. After tasting it at a luncheon, I searched for a recipe that looked similar to what I’d greedily eaten. One called for tortilla chips and one for plain tortillas. I opted for the tortillas because chips go with dip.

But something went wrong because the tortillas turned to mush, and the pan had to soak in the sink for three days before that burnt cheese would come off.

There’s also banana bread. I remember my Aunt Vickie bringing warm loaves to my mom’s at least once a week. The bread was moist and sweet and chocked full of walnuts.

I’m not sure what Aunt Vickie’s secret is, but I haven’t made a loaf of banana bread that wasn’t raw in the middle or burnt on the outside.

As they say in Pinterest land, nailed it.

There is one meal I prepare quite well – spaghetti sauce. I got the recipe from a friend’s grandmother over 40 years ago. She came to this country straight from Sicily, and she shared her recipe with me.

I remember standing next to Maw Maw Fresina in her back kitchen, intently watching as she browned steak and tomato paste, then added a little sugar and salt. She stirred in water and a masterpiece was born.

My sauce differs from hers because I could never get the right color or flavor. So I started adding oregano, sweet basil and parmesan cheese to the pot.

I tried adding steak like Maw Maw, browning and babying that slab of meat, but I could never get the meat tender. So I moved on to meatballs.

My sister said the secret to tender meatballs is to avoid handling the meat too much. So when I’m rolled the meat into balls, I pretended I was handling a raw egg.

Didn’t matter. My meatballs were hard enough for baseball practice.

But I really liked that shrimp and crab casserole, so I thought I’d give it a try. I didn’t have fresh crab or shrimp like Peggy had nor did I have Louisiana seafood paste.

With hope in my heart, I went to the grocery store and bought shrimp – not on sale – crab meat – again, not on sale – and felt as if I just might be able to recreate that casserole.

I thought I did everything Peggy told me to do, but the result was inedible. Scraping the remains into the garbage a few nights later, I realized the kitchen is not my domain.

I might as well take that list of recipes I’ve been stockpiling and chunk them. After all, it’s better to dump a stack of magazine and Southern Living recipes than another $25 worth of Louisiana seafood.

Or raw banana bread.

Or rock-hard meatballs.

Then again, if I keep at it, one of those recipes just might work out and I can truthfully say “nailed it.” 

 

This column was originally published in The Fort Bend Herald.