It's All About the Whey.
All great stories have a beginning. I don't know if this is a great story, as it starts off with a rocky beginning, and I admit, it ends the wrong whey.... but we thought it was funny.
Once upon a time in a far away land called California a boy was growing up to be strong and handsome. He was becoming a soft spoken, gentle hearted, tenderly handsome yet cunningly intelligent sort of man. In his spare time he liked to run, cross stitch, and eat things like curds and whey.
He went to college to get a fancy degree and there he married, ahem, me. (Insert years of joy, bliss, contentment, happiness, and hours and hours of endless non stop fun and laughter.) One night, he and his lovely wife decided to make a pumpkin roll. Oh dear, perhaps I've started at the wrong beginning.
Once upon a time there was a little girl, whose grandparents had a large garden that required lots of work. Whenever this little girl and her family would visit they would all troop out to the pasture to toil in the endless heat of the day. This girl, being of a wilty nature type, would find herself working in the kitchen alongside her grandmother doing such tasks as making the juice for lunch. From these moments of hard work as a child she decided that she would someday have a garden of her own. She went to college to get a fancy degree and there she married, ahem, the mister from the previous paragraph. (Insert years of joy, bliss, contentment, happiness, and hours and hours of endless non stop fun and laughter.)
They talked about and dreamed of the day when they would have their own house, with a yard, and a garden of their very own to grow delicious foods for their little family. They planted pumpkin seeds. They reaped many many pumpkins. They scratched their heads and looked at each other in puzzlement. What do we do with so many pumpkins? They gave some away. They cooked some and tried to feed it to the baby. They made soup. They made bread. At last, in despair, the lovely wife recalled a treat she had once heard others speak of: the pumpkin roll.
They began to make their pumpkin roll. Unfortunately, they had no cream cheese for the filling! The husband, being the creative and industrious sort not known for letting small obstacles get in his path decided it was no matter, he would make frosting from yogurt cheese that he would strain himself.
And that's how we had a delicious pumpkin roll. But somehow, that's still not what this story is about. After making the yogurt cheese to make the frosting for the filling of the pumpkin roll this lively young couple was left with whey in their fridge. They put it in a container, much like many other containers they use to store food items. The following day was Labor Day, and they decided on a whim to invite a nice family over for dinner. They made shishkabobs, with rice and broccoli. They cooked down the juice (soy sauce, vegetable oil, pineapple juice, red pepper flakes, garlic powder, onion powder, chopped fresh ginger) that the meat had been marinating in to make a sauce for pouring over the rice. Delicious I tell you. After the juices had started boiling, the clever husband quickly stirred some corn starch in to the remaining pineapple juice, added it to the sauce, and off we went enjoying a lovely, albeit strangely bland, meal and delightful conversation.
It wasn't until after dinner that we realized what we had done. It's tricky, you'd be surprised to see how much pineapple juice and whey look alike. How were we to know that we were serving our friends whey sauce, instead of pineapple? They ate it with a smile on their faces, and I figure it's probably good for you anyway.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. Rocky beginning and all.
Once upon a time in a far away land called California a boy was growing up to be strong and handsome. He was becoming a soft spoken, gentle hearted, tenderly handsome yet cunningly intelligent sort of man. In his spare time he liked to run, cross stitch, and eat things like curds and whey.
He went to college to get a fancy degree and there he married, ahem, me. (Insert years of joy, bliss, contentment, happiness, and hours and hours of endless non stop fun and laughter.) One night, he and his lovely wife decided to make a pumpkin roll. Oh dear, perhaps I've started at the wrong beginning.
Once upon a time there was a little girl, whose grandparents had a large garden that required lots of work. Whenever this little girl and her family would visit they would all troop out to the pasture to toil in the endless heat of the day. This girl, being of a wilty nature type, would find herself working in the kitchen alongside her grandmother doing such tasks as making the juice for lunch. From these moments of hard work as a child she decided that she would someday have a garden of her own. She went to college to get a fancy degree and there she married, ahem, the mister from the previous paragraph. (Insert years of joy, bliss, contentment, happiness, and hours and hours of endless non stop fun and laughter.)
They talked about and dreamed of the day when they would have their own house, with a yard, and a garden of their very own to grow delicious foods for their little family. They planted pumpkin seeds. They reaped many many pumpkins. They scratched their heads and looked at each other in puzzlement. What do we do with so many pumpkins? They gave some away. They cooked some and tried to feed it to the baby. They made soup. They made bread. At last, in despair, the lovely wife recalled a treat she had once heard others speak of: the pumpkin roll.
They began to make their pumpkin roll. Unfortunately, they had no cream cheese for the filling! The husband, being the creative and industrious sort not known for letting small obstacles get in his path decided it was no matter, he would make frosting from yogurt cheese that he would strain himself.
And that's how we had a delicious pumpkin roll. But somehow, that's still not what this story is about. After making the yogurt cheese to make the frosting for the filling of the pumpkin roll this lively young couple was left with whey in their fridge. They put it in a container, much like many other containers they use to store food items. The following day was Labor Day, and they decided on a whim to invite a nice family over for dinner. They made shishkabobs, with rice and broccoli. They cooked down the juice (soy sauce, vegetable oil, pineapple juice, red pepper flakes, garlic powder, onion powder, chopped fresh ginger) that the meat had been marinating in to make a sauce for pouring over the rice. Delicious I tell you. After the juices had started boiling, the clever husband quickly stirred some corn starch in to the remaining pineapple juice, added it to the sauce, and off we went enjoying a lovely, albeit strangely bland, meal and delightful conversation.
It wasn't until after dinner that we realized what we had done. It's tricky, you'd be surprised to see how much pineapple juice and whey look alike. How were we to know that we were serving our friends whey sauce, instead of pineapple? They ate it with a smile on their faces, and I figure it's probably good for you anyway.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it. Rocky beginning and all.
hahahahahaha awesome. I'm glad that whey doesn't taste gross or something.
ReplyDeleteLaurie once made pies and left the sugar out. She didn't like that kind of pie, so she didn't eat any of it, and she was really surprised by how much whipped cream the missionaries kept piling it on. Later, her husband ate a piece and of course told her what it tasted like. Haha. good times!!
I like your tales of the beginnings. :)