Although it has taken nearly four decades of trial and error (mostly error), I have finally achieved a degree of clarity about what I can and cannot do. I’ve been stubborn about this issue, arguing with great conviction against my wife’s declarations that there I shouldn’t try to do certain things that require a large amount of patience. Like cooking. And gardening. And breastfeeding.

I resisted the cooking thing most. I really want to be able to cook. Always have. I want to be one of those guys who has his own chili recipe and a strong feeling about using charcoal briquettes (as opposed to propane) and a secret barbecue sauce that makes people want to hump his leg in gratitude. But I have finally come to terms with the fact that beyond microwave popcorn and canned soup, I flatly do not possess the culinary gene.

The evidence is everywhere. I burn everything I barbecue. When I we sit down to a dinner that I have made, I watch as Hot Wife and the kids take a small, guarded bite and then look at one another with that blank stare that says, “I’m going to have to swallow this, aren’t I?” It’s all just too much for me. The heat, the flavor, the consistency, the portion size, the nutritional value, the freshness of the ingredients, the potential for unintentional poisoning… If God wanted us to remember that much at one time, he would have given us more fingers to count with.

Hot Wife went out of town this weekend, leaving me with three mouths to feed. In most similar cases, we go out. But having just returned from Las Vegas, I thought I would at least make the attempt to save some money by (cue: theme music from Jaws) cooking a meal for my children. In the freezer I found a staple of most Jewish households: a bag of frozen, pre-peeled shrimp. And so it began.

I put some of the shrimp in a pan with some olive oil, stirred it around some, trying to mimic the behaviors of those I’ve seen on television. Stir, toss in a handful of salt, grind the pepper mill a few times, take a drag from an expensive, pretentious bottle of beer. So far, so good.

Spices! We must have spices. I walked to the pantry, opened it, saw the collection of small plastic bottles with brightly colored tops. Bingo. Hmmm…let’s see here… Paprika! Yes! Definitely some paprika. And cumin! I don’t know what the hell cumin is, other than a slang term for male climax, but Bobby Flay uses the stuff all the damn time, so in it goes. What else…what else…chili powder!...garlic salt!...oh, baby. This is gonna be good. I added sprinkles of each of my spices to the sputtering pan of shrimp, flagrantly disregarding the simple fact that each one adds its own element of funkiness to the mix. Not germane, I thought. It’s supposed to be complex.

I realized that putting a plate of plain old shrimp in front of my children would be like putting a watermelon in the path of a bullet train. There had to be more. Something colorful. Something cool. Something liiiike…chocolate! Yes! Chocolate shrimp! That’s brilliant! Perhaps I’ve finally stumbled upon something marketable and awesome.

I went to the fridge to snag the half-eaten bag of chocolate chips, carried it to my workstation and paused for a beat. How many? A smart chef would probably calculate some sort of chip-to-shrimp ratio, so that’s what I did. Two. No, three! Three. Yeah, three. Three chocolate chips should adequately coat each shrimp in enough fudge to overwhelm the fishy taste and make it look like one of those candies that looks like a turtle. I sprinkled in the chips, waited for them to melt, then stirred the shrimp around in the brownish goop.

I thought to myself, “The kids are going to LOVE this! Daddy is SUCH a good cook.”

I plated the masterpiece, carried the plates to the dinner table and called them. “Guys! Come on! Dinner!”

“What are we having, dad?”

“You’ll see when you get here.” I wanted it to be a surprise.

They sprinted to the table – probably expecting so see a mac and cheese or chicken nuggets – and stopped short when they saw what was on their plates.

“What…is it?” my son asked, his lips in a snarl-like formation.

“It’s chocolate-covered shrimp,” I said, using the same voice I would have used if I was introducing a famous magician or the prime minister of Des Moines or whatever.

“Awesome!” my daughter said.

“I know, huh?” I said.

My son wasn’t so sure. He pulled his chair away from the table and sat down gingerly, as though he thought the meal might bite his fingers if they got too close. He leaned in to smell it. Blank reaction. Progress!

He picked up his fork, drove the side of it through one of the shrimpies, and then stabbed one of the halves. I brought it to his mouth, paused as if to pray for mercy, then ate it. One chew. Two chews. Nothing. Third chew, and with that his face turned into an angry raisin. He opened his mouth and let the food freefall onto his plate: a brownish, whitish chunk of chewed-up yuck. After it was all out of his person, he spit onto the plate.

“GROSS, DAD!”

“Oh, come on! It’s not that bad.”

“It’s disgusting. Have you tried it?”

“No.”

“Well you should. It’s nasty.”

Pfft. To show him that he was over-reacting and clearly not old enough to appreciate the complex flavors and textures of my masterpiece, I picked up his fork and stabbed the unchewed half of his piece. I pooped it in my mouth like it was candy.

One two. Two chews. Can’t really taste it yet. Three chews. Oh my god. Oh my god.

I kept my poker face on, dutifully chewed and swallowed the rest of it. Oh my god.

And then I stood up, walked over to the phone, and ordered us a pizza.

Comments

Haha, this made me smile. If you can't cook, you can certainly write! This reminds me of my dad. Other than fried rice and spaghetti -- NOT the sauce, JUST the spaghetti -- my dad can't cook. The first time Mom left on vacation, she wrote down a menu, a schedule, all her recipes, and made sure we had all the ingredients. Dad cooked fried rice, spaghetti, and took us to McDonald's, KFC, Applebee's, Pizza Hut, and any cheap, redneck buffet-dining-hall that we found. But you know what? Great memories!

Oh, I feel your pain! I don't think I've ever even been brave enough to make my own recipe... :-) We've been in our new apt for nearly three months and I've set the fire alarm off four times.... and I don't even try to make dinner!

"I pooped it in my mouth like it was candy." Did you really mean to write that? ;) Don't correct it! It's cute. Sounds so British.

Shrimp and chocolate? WTF??? LOL. I'm impressed that your son went as far as tasting it!!

Neither one of my parents could cook, but they'd make meals anyway since fast food was nearly non-existent back in the early 80's. My dad made stuffed peppers and I absolutely REFUSED to eat it. It's a good thing because he took a bite, chewed a few times and declared with a screwed face:

"Holy Shit!! This tastes like tampons!!!"

To this day I refuse to eat stuffed peppers.

I guess it's time to move on to breastfeeding.

This is something I am still refusing to accept. I truly wish I could enjoy cooking, but I can't and I suck at it, but being a single mom the kids are stuck with me and Hamburger Helper.

Chocolate and Shrimp....not exactlythe combination I would think of... I will give you this much... you are creative!

I'm just picturing your wife returning home only to notice the 15 pounds of chocolate covered shrimp in the bin...

And this is why Jews are not supposed to eat shrimp.
Hope you enjoyed the pizza!

Wow. Really? I thought it was getting bad at cumin, but chocolate??? Are you sure you are not just stacking the deck to get out of cooking? I'm seriously considering calling BS.

I'm actually not that bad of a cook myself, but we all have stories like that. Something along the lines of, "Hmm. This seems too plain. I need to change it up!" Like the time I made roasted potatoes in orange juice. No seriously.

The secret is knowing that most of the spices in the cupboard are for decoration only. Salt, pepper, and that's about it. If you want garlic or onion flavour, cut one up.

But, chocolate covered shrimp? Did you seriously think this would be good? Are you one of those people who eats chocolate covered insects or something?

Wow now that's a new one on me. BTW, we don't have a prime minister here in Des Moines (yes I actually live here), he prefers to be addressed more along the lines of Lord Mayor Cownie.

I am stil laughing about this. You should have just fed them chocolate cake. It has eggs, flour and some of the other major food groups! :)

Pooped it in my mouth and the cumin (coo-min) thing had me cracking up.

great experiment!! i see how it made sense in your mind- shrimp is good- chocolate is good so wouldn't they be good together? it is a logical thought.. but that is fucking nasty. stick to mac&cheese and chicken nuggets, buy in bulk!!

I'm genuinely hoping you're just telling a tale here, BUT... if you actually DID cook & serve chocolate covered shrimp with cumin & paprika....

+10 points for creativity
+10 points for effort
+50 points for originality
-100 points for taste
and +75 points for having the good sense to order a pizza!

And kudos to your boy for giving it a try!

I feel your pain. I have been banned from the kitchen at my house. I am only allowed to cook if no one else is expected to eat. Its really sad, I'm pretty sure I was meant to be the next big Food Network Star!

Walnut, raisin and creamc heese sandwiches, eggs cooked with canned beans. These are two of the lunches my dad made me when I was in grade 5 - he was a stay at home dad before it was fashionable - all I wanted was tomato soup.

I laughed at the secret barbecue sauce comment. What is it with men and barbecue sauce? In our neck of the woods (NW) it's all about the secret sauce you barbecue salmon with. No one will reveal their mysterious recipe for the perfect salmon marinade. And one question...aren't you the least bit curious what the shrimp would have tasted like without the chocolate? Methinks another culinary adventure is in order...

This is why I hate to cook. I try to mess with recipes too much, and it ends up turning my whole family into "raisin faces."

I'm...I'm...speechless. And I don't think that's ever happened before.

You had me at "chocolate".
I LOVE chocolate, but chocolate and shrimp.
Ewwwwwww!
Funny, funny stuff.

Try spaghetti, you can't screw up spaghetti.

hahahaha! This is the most fantastic story! You were doing so well until the chocolate part...please, for the sake of your children, stick with take-out and mac and cheese.

Don't feel bad Danny, my husband can't make a grilled cheese sandwich. I have showed him 3 times how to do it. It is hopeless.

Oh holy hell. You have saved me. YOU are officially the worst cook on the Internet.

I might serve my kids raw eggplant - but Chocolate Shrimp?? LOL I bow down to your awesomeness.

Your son is very brave. I would not have tried it.

Also, you should probably stay out of the kitchen unless it's making cereal for the kids. :)

Seriously??? Chocolate covered shrimp!! LMAO!!!

You really should try some of the recipes from thepioneerwoman.com. I hate to cook and suck at it as well, but I've managed to make quite a few of her recipes and they turned out really good! I haven't screwed any of them up. The step by step pictures is really helpful to me.

Next time you might try chocolate-covered bacon.

What in God's name possessed you to combine shrimp and chocolate?!? Dude!

Oh. my. gracious.. Wow. Chocolate shrimp? Astounding.

I now realize how truly blessed I am to have a man that can cook!

You are hilarious! (As if you didn't know..)

My boyfriend is banned from the kitchen after the last time he tried to cook dinner. We'd made catfish a few weeks prior and it wasn't as crunchy as I'd like, so I commented that he'd have to turn the heat up a little on the oil. Oh, he did...to "high". And then marinated the catfish in beer.
Alcohol + very high temperatures + oil.
There's no way in Hell we're getting that security deposit back. It's a miracle the microwave is still functional after being lit on fire.

OMG! I have tears rolling down my cheeks. That sounds like a combo my husband might come up with, and he's a darn good cook! Still, it's something about the testosterone that makes him try strange combos! Kudos to you for trying, and a big thumbs up for knowing when to call for a pizza.

Oh how I wish this wasn't true.

I once made rice. I remembered clearly that the ratio was 2:1, rice and water. Unfortunately, I did 2 rice and 1 water. It was inedible, true, but the mix really saved me money on wallpaper paste.

Sir, please put down the spatula, and slowly step away from the stove. LOL! I'm surprised Hot Wife hasn't put padlocks on the cabinets yet.

Thank you. I have not laughed that hard in a long time.

That was really gross. I don't like seafood. Why did you have to associate the wonderful taste of chocolate with the fishy taste of shrimp? Your son will always remember shrimp (and you) whenever he eats chocolate!!

that makes people want to hump his leg in gratitude

Best line I've read all year I think :-)

That is DISGUSTING. I'm laughing and yet totally nauseous.

Hee hee. You said "plated." I'd make fun of you some more, but the truth is, despite being the one in the household responsible for making dinner each night, I can't cook worth a damn and it's true that I've mistaken Baking Soda and Baking Power at times because, really, what's the difference?

Wow. That actually sounds more promising than the stuff dad used to make us when mom was working on a saturday. Do you remember the butter beans? With maple syrup? And canned sardines on crackers (though that actually does sound much better to me now than it did then)? Nice effort. I find that cooking is a matter of practice. Maybe you should try your creativity more often....

xo

now THIS is chocolate shrimp

:)

I will never look at cumin the same way again!!!!

Please Danny. For the Love of everything that is Good. Never go near the stove again. Never. I mean it.
Want my Chili recipe? I has beer in it.

Hah. My Mom used to leave town and we'd have "Daddy's famous hot dogs" and "Daddy's famous fish." What makes these masterpieces you ask? Why microwaved hot dogs with melted cheese on them. No buns. And you know those frozen breaded fish patties? He'd put those in the oven. And oh yes...melt cheese on them. YUM! Mmmm I needs me some Daddy's famous hot dogs tonight!!

oh. ick. I think I just threw up a little bit in my mouth. Too gross.

Really, Danny, at least you try, bless your little heart. I hate cooking and my whole family knows it. I married my husband because he can (and does) cook, and very well. Anything I do is just glorified 'heating up'.

gross. I should know better than to read this before, during, or after eating. if only you had stopped at paprika...

Hilarious!! Chocolate covered shrimp! At least you ordered a pizza, my Dad would have made us eat it!! Thanks for another great post! :)

Chocolate covered shrimp, that is really gross but major kudos to the boy for trying it. Definite points for creativity!

Whenever my mom was out of town my dad always resorted to sauteed Pierogi's, hotdogs or kielbasa on the grill. I hated when she wasn't around to cook, thankfully it wasn't often.

Oh, and please step far away from the stove.