Have you ever really screwed something up? And then tried to hide it? Come on, I know you have. It’s human nature. But it is also human nature to feel the need for confession. If you can talk about it, it really couldn’t have been that bad. And so my friends, it is time for me to bare my soul. And I promise you, no guests were injured in the making of this recipe.

We love to entertain; we designed our home to have lots of spaces for guests to mingle, indoors and out. Barb loves experimenting with recipes, a twist here, a splash of something there. But there are some recipes that are sacrosanct, crowd favorites that are never to be tampered with. So if you have eaten at our house for a summertime barbecue, you have undoubtedly enjoyed Barb’s Japanese Crunchy Coleslaw. A sweet and tangy concoction made with shredded cabbage, smashed ramen noodles (smashing noodles is fun!) toasted almonds and sesame seeds,  chopped green onions, and a secret Asian dressing, it has been a staple in Barb’s recipe file for decades.

At this point, let me explain my role when Barb is in full executive chef mode. My job is simple. Like any guy on the kitchen line, I do what the boss tells me to do. It can be chopping, sauteing, shlepping, or cleaning up. My goal is not to burn, drop, or spill things, and to keep the sink clear, washing pots, pans, mixing bowls and measuring spoons as needed.

Back to our cabbage story. It was an hour before a gathering at the house last year. I won’t say which one. The large white ceramic bowl that minutes before had been used to mix the crunchy slaw sat in the sink, its inside glistening with oil. I grabbed the sponge-on-a-stick, Dawn Liquid oozing out, and set to work cleaning the bowl. Suds were everywhere, my washing-up trademark. A spray rinse and then I hefted the bowl out of the sink and into the drying rack.

And then the kitchen horror hit me. The big white bowl hadn’t just been sitting in the sink awaiting a clean-up. It had been a dead weight over a colander filled with the fully prepared crunchy salad, the bowls mass being used to compress the mixture to eliminate excess dressing. And I had succeeded-succeeded in replacing the excess dressing with my sudsy water. Panic time!

What to do, and how to do it before Barb noticed! I rinsed and I rinsed and I rinsed. The blue Dawn color dissipated. I rinsed some more. I tasted, and the salad seemed to be ok. It had retained its vinegary tang without a soapy aftertaste. I put the white bowl back in place to once again compress out the excess liquid.  And then Iheld my breath. When the Chef made her taste test a few minutes later, she licked her lips and moved to the next item. I finally exhaled. And our celebration that day went on just fine.

So to our past and future guests, rest assured, we serve the cleanest food on the planet. And to Barb, sorry ’bout that!

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