When it comes to cooking I’ve got a pretty decent success rate. That’s not to say that I’m decent at making things look pretty, but that I have success with people rating my food. Tonight’s offering for a large potluck gathering however, has backfired. For some reason- whether very deeply seated national pride or force of habit- I keep trying to make lamb dishes. Something different I guess. Most people here in Canada wouldn’t reach for baby sheep as their go to meal (when I put it that way it sounds even more barbaric), yet as if I have something to prove, I keep trying. Most of my attempts have been pretty successful. The fare here, though imported, usually isn’t as succulent. It’s expensive too. Lamb mince is 3 – 4 times the price of its bovine based cousin. Despite these overwhelming obstacles, I keep striving for greatness against all odds. What I’m saying, guys, is that I’m the Phil Collins of burgers.
A couple of things got in the way tonight. Much as I’d love to blame the beast, human error takes the lion’s share. With inadequate prep time, I formed the patties yesterday. They’ve been sitting in the fridge for just under 30 hours. Due to the price, I had less mince than I’d usually use to cater to a group this size. I bulked the mixture out accordingly. Or so I thought. I overdid it on the onions and egg, detracting from the natural taste of the meat. I’d thought it adequately spiced with garlic, rosemary and a touch of cayenne pepper, but somehow that didn’t translate to the final product. Usually I would’ve patted the onions down with a paper towel post sauteeing, but I was out of them. Consequently the patties came out tasting bland and unappetising. They pretty much taste like fat. If I had my choice I wouldn’t eat them, let alone serve them to sentient beings. Problem is, I’m late to the shindig as it is, so I’ve got no time to start over. As one of the few meat related dishes in a largely vegan buffet, I know that omnivores will probably reach for them regardless. Gutted. I’m not angry, just disappointed. Maybe I should give myself a motivational mirror pep talk, or adopt my best Twisted Sister music video impression. Maybe if I just act sheepish the whole night that’ll compensate for the lack of lamb-like flavour. Baaa humbug.