Serious Eats - seriouseats.com

I mean, it sounds simple and lame, but I made a great 'Asian' salad dressing one night, using freshly squeezed orange juice as a base.

Mine was cooking a meal that I was half-familiar with and half-anything but for a friend. The knowledgeable half came out perfectly [Penne a la Vodka], although I've been getting even more flavor out of it lately thanks to tweaking ingredients. The other half...well, in a rush I grabbed some chicken breasts and was mostly improvising with the ingredients there. All I know is that by the time the pasta and sauce were done, I had some grilled chicken to accompany it.

Thanks to osmosis I ended up tossing some olive oil, garlic, and onions with the chicken. What a lovely triumvirate! Sure, you're not supposed to get creative when cooking for friends but what the heck? No guts, no glory, and there still would have been something to eat if I "failed". The best part was that my friend loved the entire spread.

It's not an unbiased opinion, of course, but watching a jaw drop and hearing "you can really cook!!" is still quite comforting!

I was a cook at a restaurant in Chicago which had a regular customer for nearly 20 years. He was 99 years old and came in 3-4 nights a week. One day I made an asparagus gratin for him that he liked so much he personally thanked me..I quote...'That was great kid, best vegatables I've had here.'

when I was 9 my mom was sick on thanksgiving, and since my father HAD to have a special dinner I took over. Had no idea how to roast a turkey or make gravy, but watching her must have rubbed off because everyone thought it was better than ever. My oldest brother was home from the service at the time and couldnt believe I had cooked dinner. He was so impressed he even helped with the dishes.

I think my proudest cooking moment was when my then boyfriend, who was a well established chef, declared the roast chicken I made for dinner one night was the best roast chicken he had ever tasted. Years later, long broken up, I ran into him and asked whether he'd just said that to be nice. Nope. He actually really thought it was and still did. Pretty awesome.

A few years ago for my birthday my wife convinced my favorite local chef to allow me to work in his kitchen for 2 days (long story how that came about, but that's for another time...). Anyway, at the end of the second day he asked me why I was working in software and told me I should be in a kitchen!

When my family and I would visit my great-grandparents farm for holidays, the smell of the bacon grease that my great grandmother used to fry her perfectly cooked eggs would wake us up at 6:30 every morning. We would stumble into the kitchen rubbing our eyes, and be greeted by a breakfast table right out of a Jimmy Dean sausage commercial, complete with a red checkered tablecloth and a heaping platter of eggs ranging from kid-friendly over hard on the left to explode-in-your-mouth over easy on the right.

From the day I moved into my first apartment, I had repeatedly and unsuccessfully tried to replicate Nana's deliciously-greasy over-easy eggs.
One late, groggy college morning with my roommate out of town, an afternoon class which I had planned to skip, and no homework on my plate, I decided to fry myself the perfect plate of bacon and eggs.
Forty five minutes and three broken yolks later, I had done it!
I had successfully fried a plate of eggs like my great-grandmother!

As I sat at the kitchen table, coffee cup in hand, rolling the greasy ovum around in my mouth, the phone rang. I let it ring several times so I could savor one more yolk before the interruption.
When I lifted the receiver to my ear, I heard my Dad's trembling voice.

Nana had died in her sleep some time early that morning.

To this day, I can't smell bacon grease without thinking of Nana and her red checkered table cloth.

About 15 years ago, I prepared a complete Chinese dinner for about 10, and it was as good or better than you could get in any Chinese restaurant. There were chicken wings, chow mein, egg foo yung, shrimp fried rice, and a few other dishes that I don't remember any longer. It was really a LOT of work and trouble, but it was delicious.

Last year, I made Thanksgiving dinner for my family (4 of us) on two-day notice in my microscopic kitchen (only one 16x24 counter!). My family showed up around 1 pm and my mom cried when she saw all the food on the table. It made it all worthwhile.

Every time someone says how much they like my food it makes me feel all warm inside. My most recent memorable success was with a lemon meringue pie from pierre herme that I found on foodbeam.

The other thing that just makes me happier than ever is when people say 'Oh it was ok, obviously nothing near the stuff that you make'. Glow!

These stories are all awesome. I could spend all night just reading stories like this. Maybe some intrepid author could catalog stories like these in a book?...

My best moment was when I brought an enormous Dutch oven-full of grits to work one morning for breakfast. I was determined that all of these non-Texans were going to try at least one bite. To my surprise, they not only tried the grits, they LOVED them. I mean, licked their bowls clean and had second and third helpings. I was in heaven! :)

A few weeks ago I had a dinner party at home and I made eggplant parmesan and spinach fettuchini with a fresh tomato sauce. When my niece asked if I had made mac & cheese for her, I said "No, sweetie... I made you something better - Shrek's spaghetti." http://karmafreecooking.wordpress.com/2007/11/13/eggplant-parmesan/

She was super excited... She ate the whole plate of spinach fettuchini and before she left for home she asked me for the recipe. Then a few days later at her house, she asked me to make her Shrek's Spaghetti again... I was so happy to introduce something new in her diet when she's such a finicky eater.

Madelyn
Karma-Free Cooking