Steph Not Stephanie

I’ve never been what one might call ‘gifted’ in the kitchen. I think a more accurate statement might be ‘fucking disaster.’ A couple of years ago, I decided to learn how to cook. I bought the most basic cookbook I could find:

Apparently not basic enough. I bought all my groceries for the week’s meals, planned diligently, and invited a friend over to help me make chicken stir fry. I handed her the veggies to chop, and she commented on how it seemed like a lot of garlic. ‘The recipe calls for two cloves,’ I told her, full of confidence, as I handed her two things of garlic. Had she not been there to laugh with/at me and inform me of the difference between a bulb and a clove, I would have put 16 cloves of garlic in my damn stir fry. Seriously though, how the fuck am I supposed to know what a clove is? I clearly missed that day of how to be an adult class.

I read this book a lot as a child. Perhaps too much.

Another time, I tried baking a birthday cake for a staff member. My idea of baking involves a box full of powder and a jar of frosting, and whatever else the box says to add – if I have it. I didn’t have any eggs, but I did have extra oil. My reasoning? Same consistency, so a perfectly acceptable substitute. Shockingly, that did not work out well for me.

So here we are, some time has passed, and a few things have changed. Going vegetarian has forced me to learn some new tricks and actually figure out meals. I’ve had some less-than-perfect results (when it says to use a food processor, no, a shitty blender will not get the job done), but at least this way I’m less likely to give myself food poisoning. I’ve even been able to master adequately recreate a few dishes enough times that I feel comfortable with them. So, being the somewhat crazyperson that I am, I’ve decided to make things even more challenging: I’m going at-home vegan (and vegetarian while at other people’s houses, weddings, etc).

I invited a friend over (because if I’m going down, I’m taking someone else with me), and decided to make vegan pasta from scratch with a fancy-pants wild mushroom sauce. Sure Steph, that sounds completely reasonable. 

I had to go to three different grocery stores because apparently there is a white/brown onion shortage in Ontario, I struggled with silken tofu (as a vegetarian I buy tofu all the time … this was not supposed to be the hard part), I had to google way too many ingredients (yes, kosher salt is different; no, all-purpose flour is not the same as bread flour; no, Spanish onions are not white or brown), but I made it to the kitchen in one piece.

I made the dough with only one little incident, and stuck it in the fridge with a hope and a prayer. My friend joined me, and she is even worse in the kitchen (yep, possible!). It was like the blind leading the blind and deaf. Things we said:

• I have oregano stuck to my arm.
• Stick your face in the freezer. Get in there.
• Me: Do I simmer with the lid on or off? Friend: Is there someone else in the kitchen?
• Go away liquid!
• What the hell is a small, medium, or large dice?

Minor speedbumps aside, I/we actually managed to pull it off. I made vegan pasta from scratch and no one died! See for yourself:

Disregard the lumps and I think it looks pretty damn good. The sauce turned out really well (despite including things I don’t even know how to pronounce, like chiffonade). It tasted awesome (fuck dry pasta), and hopefully it will get easier over time. And if it doesn’t, thank goodness I live in a city with 24-hour restaurant delivery.