[This is a continuation of my last blog.]
I don't mind telling you that I have been in torment over those stupid buns since Thursday. The neighbour was gone all weekend and while she was away, I just kept stewing about those buns.
Finally, and thankfully, I was able to get her on the phone earlier today. A great relief because I was sure when I finished my confession I could return to a life without angst.
So after the customary bit of small talk, I decided the time had come to get down to the business of the buns. I began by telling my neighbour that I felt awkward and uneasy about something and for that something I felt I must apologize.
I then went on in great detail about the oil substitution and how the buns tasted so off to me, and it wasn’t a good thing because she had made such a nice meal for us and I fair ruined it by adding to the mix my ‘tainted buns’.
So now the buns were out-ed. Everything is back to normal. The tainted buns have been given justification for being tainted.
What a load off my chest!
And so, after all that, I wanted her to say as some of my commenters suggested she might say…(i.e. “It’s okay. Those things can and do happen”.)
But no, that is not what she said.
She said the buns tasted fine to her, and to her husband as well.
And even her adult son, who is the gourmet of gourmets had given an evaluation of the buns.
The adult son that studies cookbooks like they were exciting novels and in all his spare time evaluates and makes note of the preferred companionships and relationships of spices, oven heat, and cooking time.
This young man drives his mother to distraction. He would rather starve to death than eat, if all isn’t perfection. My neighbour gets quite impatient with his culinary demands. And he only relinquishes momentarily his study of cookery for a bit of shopping time to buy all the unique items that are a must for his lavish recipes. And so now, what did the gourmet say?
He wasn't home the night we had 'the supper', but he ate left-over buns the next morning and said they were perfection.
I am stunned when my neighbour tells me these assessments of the tainted buns. And then as I frantically review the incongruity of what is in my mind and what my neighbour is telling me, I am even more anxious than before.
My God, in my mind I thought I just apologized for a grave error. But maybe I didn’t do that at all. Maybe what I just did was inform the individuals at the heart of this story that they lack taste-buds sensitive enough to recognize the difference between good and bad food?
A bloody nasty and unfair criticism, considering as how I have a lack of something of greater value than sensitive taste buds.
Obviously what I lack is graciousness. Try as I might, I never seem to get it quite right.
8 comments:
Oh, Roberta, this is really funny! How you can get your knickers in such a twist! I had a feeling it was going to turn out like this: the buns being perfectly okay. So now you have a new reason to feel badly over the evening, feeling ungracious. How will you get over this dilemma? Can you let the buns go or will you need to talk it over with a professional?
laughing - did you brush your teeth just before going to dinner? From the sounds of it, they won't think THEIR tastebuds are off, they'll merely think yours are! I wouldn't worry if i were you - you can put that down (should they be gauche enough to mention it) to aging ;)
This is TOOOOO funny Roberta. I still think you did the right thing...and you shouldn't spend one more minute worrying about it. Who knows why those buns tasted 'off' to you...and were fine with your neighbors; and I'm not really surprised that was the outcome. What is aBUNdantly clear....you are a very good cook. Case closed. ~Joy
Nora, I hadn't thought about needing a professional. But maybe?? Nah, that won't do. There isn't a professional that knows how to make most excellent buns, and furthermore I'm quite certain none has ever studied the impact on the psyche of those who live in great fear of tainted buns rather than spiders, tall buildings,crowds, etc.
Thank you Nora for that suggestion given with such sincere concern. (lol)
Pauline, thanks for visiting. Truth is all I want is my forgetfulness to kick in full strength for a few hours so I can just totally forget this horrid experience.
Joy, you make me laugh as well. Though the laugh be at me own expense.
Thank you for comforting me as you always do in such a cute and caring way.
Interesting outcome! Don't bother with talking to a professional - clearly you have bunaphobia since you're the only one who found the buns taste to be objectionable. The only way to overcome it is to keep making buns until they taste right.
Hi joared. Thanks for visiting. "Bunaphobia?"
I believe you might be right. If there is any follow-up to this whole disasterous business, I will simply explain it away with that diagnosis. No fault of mine. A malady beyond my control. (chuckle).
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