Amateur home chefs: what dish have you made once but will *never* do again?

About 20 years ago, when my extended family decided to grace us with their presence from up North, I had the brilliant idea to whip up an elaborate, full-course Japanese feast for them—soup to nuts, with sushi rolls as the pièce de résistance. I kicked off my culinary marathon at the crack of dawn and didn’t wrap up until well past sundown. Meanwhile, my family was out gallivanting around town, enjoying every local attraction and specialty shop.

While they were making memories, I was making messes—up to my elbows in sticky rice and miso paste, questioning all my life choices. Not only did I miss out on the fun, but I also had to endure my big brother’s relentless sarcasm upon their return. “Still not ready?” he’d quip every hour on the hour. “Did you have to fly to Japan to get the ingredients?” And, of course, my kids and Dad would have preferred chicken fingers—”eww, I’m not eating raw fish, and that green stuff’s too hot!”

By the time dinner was finally served, I was exhausted, frazzled, and sporting a fashionable smear of wasabi on my forehead. The meal, I’ll admit, was fantastic—Gordon Ramsay would’ve been impressed. But of course, my brother couldn’t resist one last zinger: “You know, we could’ve just ordered Chinese takeout and saved you the trouble.” Classic.

Needless to say, I’ve since retired from hosting any multi-course Japanese dinners. Next time, I’m ordering pizza and joining the family outing—someone else can wear the wasabi.

I’ve made cockentrice once. Never again. Not enough payoff for the effort (actually finding suckling pig and capon being a large part of that effort), compared to equally impressive presentations like mock boar’s head or chicken in 6 colours.

Let me introduce you to the foolproof Hollandaise sauce. You can make it in a minute with ease and it really works and is indistinguishable from the usual method.

(2.5 minutes)

That’s great, thank you! I did not have a handheld blender at the time, but now I do!

This sounds like some kind of Franken-turducken!

Back when my local NPR station had “The Splendid Table”, a caller said he was a chef who knew how to quickly debone poultry, and the “roast beast” he prepared for a holiday celebration was:

A Cornish hen
in a chicken
in a duck
in a goose
in a turkey

and as he assembled it, he made broth with the bones and had enough of each to last for a while. Having a goose in there would certainly have provided plenty of fat, but he implied that he knew what he was doing, and he did say it was delicious.

I’ve never made macarons but I’ve bought them. Even here in Arizona the crispness is disappointingly absent.

Mixing different types of meat in the same dish has always felt a bit obscene to me, almost like the culinary equivalent of a mass grave. If an animal sacrifices its life for our nourishment, we should honor that by appreciating its unique flavor and presence, not blending it into a chaotic mix with others.

When I die, I don’t want to be ground up with other corpses and unceremoniously poured into a grave.

I dunno. Ground meats can be great mixed together.

I’ll never do agnolotti again. Not because they were difficult, which they were.

The reason: I made them, and they were delicious. They were stuffed with shredded braised pork, chicken, and spinach, and dressed with browned butter and sage. My husband watched me making them, commented on the hard work, and he adored the finished dish. Then, about six months later, I was reminiscing and saying “remember those agnolotti? They were yummy.” He looked blank and said “no.”

I’m not busting my butt over a complex dish if it’s completely forgotten in a few months.

Years ago I helped a friend slaughter and butcher a bunch of lambs. He was a butcher in his youth, and still has the bandsaw, and all the gadgets.

I took some meat home, but I also took all the bones. My gf had a few huge stock pots and we borrowed a few more. We spent an entire weekend making lamb broth. Boiling bones, skimming, cooling outside, etc.

At the end I filled a zillion freezer zip-locks, froze them, etc. For years we enjoyed it.

My Grandmothers fried chicken.

Came out great.

But what a greasy mess. I was finding new grease spots on the upper cabinets for a couple weeks.

I don’t remember grandmother having that messy problem. Fried chicken and a roast were parts of her family, Sunday dinners for years.

I’ll buy my fried chicken from now on.

The only truly excellent fried chicken I can ever recall having from anywhere ever was for a long time at a particular Whole Foods they were selling fried chicken on the hot table.

I have a different opinion than most people about fried chicken: stop seasoning it! There is absolutely no need at all to add anything to chicken that is being fried except salt.

That includes making “batter“. Overkill and not worth it in any regard.

Here’s how you make outstanding fried chicken that will delight anybody who genuinely likes fried chicken: start by brining it. You can either do a water brine or a dry brine, your call that’s a different thread. But make sure that it is properly seasoned, that the salt is all the way through the meat; that takes some practice not to oversalt.

Then, depending on the way you brined it you dry it off put it back in the fridge let it dry some more for another 6-24 hours if you want or you just get very clean kitchen towels and squeeze the hell out of it to make it as dry as you possibly can.

You dredge it in flour, maybe add a bit of salt to the flour itself but be careful. Make sure you get all surfaces, little ins and outs and corners and bits and especially try to get some under the skin, pull the skin somewhat away from flesh. Then shake off all the excess.

Fry it in lard, ideally. (Lard is not only tastier than oils and shortenings, it’s also healthier. Again, another thread if you don’t believe me, look it up.) You can do a straight fry from beginning to end, or you can do a double fry or anything that suits you. Just make sure it’s very nicely golden brown and crispy as hell.

I guarantee you, if you genuinely enjoy fried chicken itself and not all the goop that people put on it, but the flavor of chicken, you’ll thank me for this.

If you are anything like me you can probably skip all the parts except wings, which have the perfect balance of meat to skin. But they’re really hard to find and expensive compared to other parts. What I do actually is buy cheap thighs and half the time I pull off the skin with just a little bit of meat and fry the skin up in small pieces for snacks and do something else with the rest of the thigh meat.

Dunno how your grandma did it but you can buy splatter screens which are cheap and work well to stop this sort of thing.

I don’t think I’ve ever made fried chicken, nor can I imagine ever bothering to do so. I like chicken. I use it in so many different ways. But The first step in prepping is to remove and dispose of the skin.

I’ve had fried chicken from KFC, wedding receptions, etc. The first thing I do is remove and discard the skin/breading.

When my wife moved down to NC from CT, I promised her I would take her to a traditional pig-pickin’ sometime. After a couple years, I decided to go ahead and do one myself. (Pig-pickin’s are not nearly as common now as they used to be. And most people have a commercial catering company come in when they want one.)

So I borrowed a pig cooker (charcoal, not gas) and got to work. Picked up half a pig from a butcher in Smithfield and…well, I won’t bore you. I made everything we ate, from the pig to the slaw to the pepper vinegar to the banana pudding (with real Nilla Wafers).

Was the end result good? Yes, but not worth the amount of time and energy it took. Never again.

But my friends who attended it are still asking when I’m going to do another. I just smile.

HERESY!!! :triumph:
Unless you happen to live near me in which case please, I beg of you: just collect it in a plastic bag freeze it up and let me come by and pick it up occasionally…

Around here we call that a pig roast. A friend who has some sheep got the whole setup to do pigs/lambs over a fire. He discounts it if you buy the lamb from him, but he will also procure the pig, set things up in the early morning, then serve later in the day.

I think he did 3, two lambs and one pig. It paid for his rig and a bit of profit, then he hung up his apron.

I’d love to attend a lamb roast!

And a true pig-pickin’ DOES require that the guests pick from the pig. No fair slicing some off for them. But you are allowed to have a board and knife handy so it can be chopped.

Would a sausage skin be okay? Just askin’

I signed up for a “pig picking” in North Carolina, and was disappointed to have a generic meal in a large room with trays of food over hot water. Yeah, maybe that pork had been roasted whole. I doubt it.