...A Culinary Oops "My Audrey Hepburn Bust-Up"
All hail the thoughtfully crafted cookbook "Audrey at Home: Memories of My Mother's Kitchen" published by Audrey's son Luca Dotti back in 2015. Chock full of atmospherically grainy vintage pix of lovely Audrey and her children, Audrey and her illustrious husbands, friends and family, and of course her beloved pets (Hello, Mr. Famous and one supremely sweet deer named Pippin!), this book is a must-read for any Audrey lover.
And given that it doubles as a cookbook, or actually is primarily a cookbook, you can of course expect to see some drool-worthy recipes. Everything from Audrey's love for chocolate as evidenced in the recipe "Chocolate Cake with Whipped Cream," then Italian treasures like "Gnocchi alla Romana." And these recipes are where yours truly comes in.
On page 73 of this cookbook, there's a recipe called "Tortilla de Patatas y Cebolla." Roughly translated, it's a "traditional Spanish tortilla." An ethnic variation of the Italian frittata, the French quiche, and the American omelet, this Spanish egg-based masterpiece has been devoured by me on many occasions. And always in Spain. When I studied there in college. And when I returned for vacation back in 2018. So I was elated to see this recipe in Audrey's delightful cookbook, and I was excited to try my hand at it.
Well, this is a first for me on this Color Me... blog. I almost can't believe what I'm about to write. But here goes: I failed. Yes indeed. My "Tortilla de Patatas y Cebolla" was a positively perfect recipe, but when you don't have the right sized pan and spatula, your Spanish tortilla can become an outright fire hazard. Half a spatula burnt to oblivion (looking like a shark took a big chomp out of it). And your pan charred to oblivion (looking truly unsalvageable). Luckily I was able to save the pan, but unfortunately not the spatula.
So, there's not much more to say in this blog post. I'm only glad that I survived my kitchen mess, and managed to eat "half" a tasty Spanish tortilla. I took a big knife and cut away the leeched carcass of tortilla, infected with smelly burnt plastic. I then very thoughtfully examined my remaining bits of sliced potato, onion, egg, and spices, and deliberated if it was still worth a taste. All was safe, and so I went for it.
And was it delish? Absolutely. I vow to try this recipe again, but with a different, smaller sized pan, and a bigger, metal spatula. The smell of the ingredients alone was gorgeous. And the few bites that I did eat were divine. Sigh: Better luck next time. Perhaps there will be a Part 2 to my adventure into this beautiful, but now dangerous Audrey cookbook.
By the way, I wish someone had snapped a pic of my facial expression when I saw my disintegrated spatula. I lifted the white plastic tool out from underneath the yellow sizzling concoction, my brain frazzled as I sensed that my lunch was going up in smoke (quite literally), and I was beyond shocked at what I saw. Yes, my poor spatula was dead. No doubt I was sporting an Audrey "Funny Face." Haha. Oh no. Until next time.