One day I decided to make a pitcher of whiskey sours for myself and some friends. Easy, good recipe:
1 Can frozen Lemonade
1 Can of whiskey
1 Can of water
1 Can of Ice
1 Egg

Throw it all in the blender and let it rip.
Well, I had a large crowd so I decided to put in one cup of each ingredient starting with the whiskey. I may have been licking my fingers because as I was pouring in the whiskey to the 1 Cup Line, my father walked in from work, took one look, and shouted "What the hell are you doing?" The seal on the blender was not tight. I had poured almost an entire fifth of Jack Daniels in the top and out the bottom. There was bourbon everywhere - the counter, the floor, me. A terrible waste but the kitchen smelled like heaven for weeks.


I am infamous for my pies. No matter what I do the crust is grim. So I searched and searched for a recipe to produce a "to die for" crust and found an elaborate, three day ritual recipe that involved rolling layers of dough and butter, freezing, rolling. My brothers watched the whole process doubtfully but when the pie was baked it was spectacular. The crust was a golden mound; the filling smelled wonderful. Unfortunately it literally took a hammer and screw driver to break into it. I no longer do pies.

A friend of mine had just married and held her first "party". She spent days preparing a feast for her friends and husband's workmates. She never drank but decided to have a glass of wine to calm her nerves. While her husband served the canapes, she was in the kitchen putting the final touches to a fondue. Without thinking, she stirred it with a large plastic spoon and...the spoon came out bowlless. After fishing for it for a while, she shrugged and served it anyway. But by now her head was spinning so she told her husband that she would lie down just for a few minutes and was not seen again. Next morning, to her horror, she found ALL THE FOOD still in the refrigerator. Her husband, not the brightest bulb in the box, had not served any of it nor attempted to wake her up. Woman's work, I guess. Never saw her take a drink again.