Recently, Randy Grim held an auction on eBay to raise money for Stray Rescue St. Louis. Up for bids: A gourmet dinner for two at Grim's house. As the bids increased, Randy hired a personal chef to prepare the meal. As he put it, "I burn Pop-Tarts."
With all due respect to my long-time friend and radio buddy, anyone can burn a Pop-Tart. If you must have a kitchen disaster, make it one everyone remembers.
My great-grandmother first made a banana bread recipe that is still part of every Geer family Christmas. Family members claim it just isn't Christmas without Uncle Charlie's banana bread.
Grandma Geer cooked at a café in Campbell, Mo., (home of those famous peaches!) to raise three children during the Great Depression. My dad was no slouch in the kitchen, either, with his "pinch-of-this, dab-of-that" approach.
I continue that rich tradition every time I step into the kitchen. The unwritten rule with Angie and me has been "the first one who gets home fixes dinner." It's worked for us since 1984, but when I stumble, I fall flat on my face.
In 1976, Joe DiMaggio called Mr. Coffee "the greatest coffee-brewing system ever." What I called it back then is unprintable. I had made coffee in a percolator for years, and I figured the "one per cup, plus one for the pot" rule applied to my brother Butch and his new Mr. Coffee. My first batch was so strong, Butch made no new coffee for the rest of that weekend.
My dear departed brother also suffered through my first homemade batch of chili (no, he did not die from the chili). I added chili powder and stirred it into the ground beef, onions and beans. Not spicy enough. I added more.
Four more add-and-tastes later, it was just right.
I don't think even Adam Richman of "Man Vs. Food" could have survived my first "bowl of red." As Butch dove toward the refrigerator, I'll never forget his last words as he sought relief: "C'mon ice cream!"
Even that beloved banana bread fell victim to recipe tweaking a couple of years ago. I decided to update Great-Grandma's recipe by using baking powder instead of baking soda. I decided to save time by using cooking spray on each little pan. (Ever try to grease and flour 70 mini-loaf pans? That, my friend, is mucho work.)
The bananas were dead ripe (for best flavor). Mixing was a breeze. The aluminum-foil mini-loaf pans were all lined up. I was cookin' — until I smelled that smoke. I didn't even have to flip on the oven light to see the flames through the window. The Clabber Girl was working; the batter was rising nicely (right over the side of the pan and onto the heating element). Only a box of Arm and Hammer kept me from calling the Granite City Fire Department that day.
As I said before, anyone can burn a Pop-Tart. It takes real flair to burn banana bread.
Charles E. Geer is a Granite City resident and former radio talk show host who is father of two, and grandfather of two. Besides writing, he also enjoys cooking, drumming, and talking cars with almost anyone.
