During one of our discussions of The Grey Wolf last week, Susan and Jane brought up the topic of real world locations in the book. I just wanted to add to Jane and Susan’s conversation here to say that although Jane’s research found that no real world location of Chez Mama exists, Chez Mama does exist, in the same way as Three Pines exists. And I present here, a behind-the-scenes look at the kitchen of Chez Mama.
This is how food is made in the Chez Mama kitchen. Today we feature the role of raspberry ganache in the creation of the trademark crust of the flooring treatment.
Ingredients and Recipe:
To start, fresh raspberries are hand picked to ensure that only the sweetest, most perfectly ripe berries are used. They are then gently simmered to exactly 180°F and the resulting compote is carefully strained to remove the seeds. Raspberry ganache is then produced by thorough emulsification with only the highest quality, lovingly melted, white couverture chocolate. Once complete homogenization is achieved, the ganache is ready.
Instructions:
Just before the last step of placing the container with the ganache in the refrigerator, spill the mixture as evenly as possible on the floor, with the goal of covering as much square footage as possible with your creation. Bonus points can be gained for soaking electrical outlets in the process. This particular recipe was just a test batch to serve a very small kitchen, but the recipe can be doubled or tripled for larger spaces.
This raspberry ganache is highly recommended as the first step in the Chez Mama floor treatment process to enable the ideal level of stickiness. When combined with a subsequent jam, honey or maple syrup spill, the result is perfection. Just enough adhesion to glue the outer sole of a shoe to the floor to create an uncomfortable level of walking resistance, but not enough suction to cause a foot to pop out of a shoe.
Chez Mama is a state of mind, when you hope that your bakes don’t burn, but you’ve forgotten to turn on your timer. When you mistake salt for sugar and end up with something inedible. When you offer to provide a dish for your neighbour’s potluck and manage to cook the worst meal you could never have imagined. When you hope for Michelin star quality, and end up with a larger than usual bag for the garbage. Then you’ve cooked in Chez Mama’s kitchen.
What makes our group wonderful is the kind, compassionate and respectful spirit of Three Pines that exists in all of us. And in a similar way, we are all kindred spirits who have cooked in Chez Mama’s kitchen. We share a very special bond, my friends. Oh my goodness exists.
This is nothing if not hilarious!
Inspired by the idea of Chez Mama as a state of mind and by the examples offered here, I remembered a personal Chez Mama’s kitchen example.
Many years ago, my family lived in Baltimore, MD and had invited good friends for a roast turkey dinner. I had read that to keep the turkey breast meat moist, one should roast it breast side down until near the end of roasting time. This advice failed to note that turning a turkey over would be quite challenging. That is why this particular turkey ended up on the kitchen floor. Of course, I retrieved it and figured the remaining time in the oven would take care of any contaminants from the floor. To this day, any conversation around the holidays includes Jean asking me if I have thrown a turkey on the floor. Rest assured BCFs that I never tried that again.
I have your turkey disaster now etched in my mind, Jane. Having nearly had a turkey or two slip from my grasp when taking it out of the oven, I completely sympathize. But I’m glad it has now become part of your holiday tradition. 😉
Both of these are hilarious! Mine was forgetting to put the lid on the blender before turning it on with the contents spraying everywhere. When my siblings and I were young, we were going to bake a birthday cake for our mother while she was out. It was supposed to be a surprise. My sister spilled the flour in the silverware drawer and onto the black floor. As we ran out of time, we put the dirty dishes in the clothes dryer until we would have time to wash them. Fortunately, Mom did not decide to do some laundry when she came home.
Dishes in the clothes dryer? A perfect example of “kid logic” – both genius and hilarious. Love it!
Just like Three Pines, Chez Mama is about community and how we all belong here together. We are all kindred spirits cooking in Chez Mama’s kitchen, where Oh My Goodness exists.
“Oh My Goodness exists” made me laugh! Jane needs to edit her post to add your last line. Perfection!!!
I guess I was at Chez Mama’s kitchen the evening I made lasagna and forgot the lasagna noodles. We dined on tomato based cheese and ground beef stew that night. I’d never eaten lasagna with a spoon until that night.
I’m sure it was delicious even without the noodles. I too have enjoyed lasagna soup. A dear friend of mine has made it on more than one occasion but with the noodles. I’ve always enjoyed it. 😀
These Chez Mama stories are absolutely hilarious! I can just picture your horror at dropping the turkey on the floor Jane! And the mess from the blender Nancy, my nightmare as I envision bits on ceilings, drapes and around corners in far off rooms with the power of the blender and centrifugal forces at play! Oh Libby, I’ve had lasagna soup many a time, I have to admit!!! I’ve have had many kitchen catastrophes but the biggest mess I’ve had to clean was in the laundry room, where the chest freezer is kept. One busy day when I was rushing to dig something out from the bottom of that freezer, it took me so long to pull everything out and find what I was looking for that I rushed putting everything back inside the freezer. I didn’t see the full box of ice cream sitting on the top of the washing machine, squeezed tightly against the corner of the room. Well, I found the empty box the next day and it has been the worst experience in my life, trying to move the big machines and clean every corner and crack. I can’t even buy ice cream anymore. The sight of it brings nightmares.
The raspberry ganache photo pales in comparison to the ice cream effects I envision!
You don’t want to envision, Jane, trust me. I could’ve cried. I wish I had … my warm, salty tears would’ve helped to help clean and sanitize!
Oh my I feel your pain Katherine. I’ve had a case of Coca-Cola fall in the garage with cans rolling around, spewing their sticky contents under the freezer, and the car, and all the throw rugs. We could have made Coca-Cola floats if we’d been neighbors. Cheers to sticky tears!
Great thought to make Coke floats from our misery! Imagine all the ants stuck to cans and other surfaces. It’s the Chez Mama lemonade from lemons twist!
How easy it is to put something on top of the freezer (mine is an upright in the basement) in order to reach something in the back and then forget to take the things from the top and put them back in the freezer. I know that I have almost left ice cream on top of the freezer.
Between Jane’s ganache, Libby’s coca cola and your ice cream I am thinking I should stay away from any liquidy sugary treats! 😀
My mum had a few Chez Mama experiences (although I might add to be fair she was an amazing cook and a busy mum). The first was when we all began smelling something so terrible we thought an animal had died in the crawlspace under our kitchen. But after routing around to locate the smell we found a raw chicken among the dish pans. Mum had been so flustered one day that she had put it in a casserole dish but then forgotten to put it in the fridge and oven. Needless to say she was disinfecting the pots and area for a long time and I will never ever forget the smell.
The second was when she was given some wild moose meat to cook one time from a relative. Not really knowing how to cook it she boiled it first. I’ll always remember how Puddy Tat my cat reacted to the smell – arched back, hissing and every hair on her body stood up on end. That was my reaction too but I could not imitate Puddy Tat’s reaction.
Your chicken story reminded me of when we killed a chicken (we had them for eggs and meat) and having to pluck the feathers. It was placed in boiling water for a time to help get out the smaller feathers. To this day, I cannot stand the smell of boiled chicken.
These stories are all so funny and I can picture every single one of these so very clearly in my mind’s eye that I can feel the horror and disappointment you all must have felt! It’s true that Chez Mama’s does exist and that we have all spent some time there. What a great bonding experience!
I have been trying to think of my disaster to share. I have had so many, but nothing as exciting to tell as what I’ve read here. So many ruined pots from forgetting about things on the stove, usually just boiling water, the horrible smell from the dry pot burning on the element, the kitchen full of smoke, the fire alarm ringing so loudly my ears felt like they would pop, the frantic run to open doors and windows to try to stop the deafening sound, the embarrassment of neighbours coming to make sure everything was ok and that their homes were not in danger. And this happening over and over again so many times I cannot remember how many. I think I have cooked in Chez Mama’s kitchen so much that I must work there part-time.
The pot burning wasn’t the story I finally remembered to share though. The story wanted to share was of the time I was asked to make one of the main dishes at my best friend’s wedding. I was asked to make my special sticky rice, something I have made thousands of times and each time perfectly. It is one of my specialty dishes that is difficult to get just right, which is why my friend requested it from me. I had to make an especially large batch for the special day. No big deal, I thought. Just multiply the recipe and cook as usual. Except there was nothing usual about this particular cook. I don’t know why, but I was so nervous to make something for this special occasion. While the rice was cooking, I couldn’t stop myself from checking on it. Over and over and over, I would lift the lid and peek, was it ok? Did it need something more? Was it cooking properly? Every time I looked, it didn’t look right, so the worry got worse and worse and I had to check more and more. And it was only at the end, when there was nothing I could do and no time to try again that I realized that I had made the biggest, mushiest, worst sticky rice in my life. A big wet clump of glue-your-mouth-shut rice. What could I do at that point? They needed food at the wedding and I had promised. I brought my disaster and placed it alongside the rest of the beautiful dishes and there it sat, barely touched as very few people tried it. Just by looking, you could see something was not right. But then my friend’s new husband had his turn to sample the foods and all night long he went back for big portions to eat, telling me it was delicious when everyone in that room knew it was most definitely not. I had always liked my friend’s boyfriend, but that is when I realized that I loved her husband. There is a special type of kindness and stomach strength to eat almost an entire pot of mush made by the head chef at Chez Mama.
Oh My Goodness exists! I’ve left a pot or two on the stove before too so I know that burning smell all too well. It’s always the most important cooks and bakes that turn into disasters, isn’t it?
Oh my goodness, all of your stories are hilarious! I can feel the pain you all felt during the times you spent in Chez Mama’s kitchen. We share a very special bond, my friends. The spirit of Chez Mama exists in all of us.
Yes! I will edit my post to include Susan’s lines; they are perfect!
Ah, if you want a true Chez Mama experience, just come to my place! I will create for you the finest microwaved or stove-topped mess you care to have; I’m great at making blender messes, too. I will spend a great deal of time creating just the perfect mix of fruits, yogurt, milks, nuts, etc. then lovingly place it on the counter — and miss— and knock it all over the floor. I sometimes watch the disasters unfold in slow motion, telling my hands to just be a LITTLE quicker to close– to no avail. If a pot on the stove is capable of boiling over, I will do it. If a pan can be overheated, I can manage that (you should have seen/experienced my house a few weeks ago when I discovered that my nonstick pan could indeed burn its coating off if I miscalculated its capability for burning— nothing like fans and open windows in a smoke-filled house on a cold wintry day to get the circulation flowing)! And weirdly, I was monitoring the situation as it occurred, but my meat thermometer was saying that my chicken wasn’t yet done; I thought it was just glazing! Note that I do not mention anything cooked in the oven, as I haven’t used mine in years, except to store things in. It doesn’t heat evenly, and my last attempts at pies entailed way too many wasted hours trying to get that toothpick to come clean (my Mum’s way of telling when the filling was cooked properly). Sound enticing? Come on over! (we could always do takeout…or cereal!)
I am still really getting a charge out of every submission here. If it is possible to chronicle a kitchen disaster not yet recorded, I am kind of doubtful but I certainly hope to be proven wrong. On the subject of allowing a pot to burn dry and based on extensive personal experience, I recommend the vinegar and baking soda repair effort. In addition to often working, it creates a spectacular show in the process.
Me too, Jane! Susan, your experiences and offer of cereal made my morning!! Somehow the chant “One of us, one of us!” sprang to mind.
Why thank you, Katherine! Glad to be part of this fine crowd. And I do make a mean bowl of cereal, so the offer stands!
Agree with Katherine – the cereal offer was a brilliant touch on an already glorious comment!
Well, here is a disaster not yet recorded. Even as I type this, I am wondering where my brain was. Several days ago, I was out to the two grocery stores that I use. Because one of them did not have the laundry detergent for which I had two coupons, I had to back track to Target. It was getting late, so I stopped to get a crispy chicken sandwich and some french fries. When I got home, I turned the toaster oven on a low temperature, put the sandwich and fries on a plastic plate and put them in the oven to keep warm. As I was putting the groceries away, I began to smell something strange. I looked in the toaster oven and found a Dali-esque plastic plate which had melted around the bars of the shelf.
Oh Nancy!!! I feel your pain deeply on this one! I could somehow smell the melted plastic as I read your story.
Deep sympathies for this one, Nancy. Just when it’s late and you’re hungry and tired, disaster strikes and you now have a mess to clean up and no food to eat. Chez Mama strikes again.
I think Jane has inspired yet another idea…we can create an Oh My Goodness Cleanup Manual for all the moments we cook in Chez Mama’s kitchen! The first pages outline the vinegar and baking soda repair technique and somewhere in the book are instructions to make a 3D power washer to hose everything down, or coupons to buy replacement tools and appliances.
Thank you, Jane, for this delightful post. I have certainly spent time in Chez Mama’s kitchen over the years!
I was only twenty years old when I married in 1977. You would expect that as the eldest daughter of a large family, I would have been an accomplished cook by that time. However, I hadn’t learned to cook at all. The main reason for this is because the kitchen was my mother’s sole sanctuary. It was her place of creativity, her ‘alone’ time. Her response to her children asking to help, or to learn how to cook was met with “you can peel the potatoes if you like” or “please wash the dishes on the counter”. I would be frustrated as I stood at the kitchen sink, my hands immersed in soapy water, delectable sights and smells emanating from various pots on our huge stove. My mother stirred and whisked and tasted, engaged in an intricate dance, fully absorbed in her creative process.
Thus, by the time I was married I had developed a love of food and a fairly good palate, but I didn’t know how to cook. I could barely boil an egg and make toast. A few weeks after returning from our honeymoon, I decided to invite my brand new in-laws for dinner for the first time. Armed with Betty Crocker’s iconic Cookbook ( a wedding gift), I went nonchalantly ahead. After all, how difficult could it be? I had seen my mother do it a hundred times!
For my menu I decided on baked ham, potato salad and a spinach salad. For dessert there would be a bakery bought apple pie and vanilla ice cream. The morning of the dinner I made the potato salad and placed it in the fridge in readiness. It looked delicious in its pretty brown and orange Pyrex cassrole dish . All it needed was a sprinkling of paprika over the top before serving. The table looked lovely adorned with flowers and my new brown Hornsea Heirloom dish set ( another wedding gift). The tablecloth was of brown and orange swirls with matching napkins. (This was the 70’s, most things were brown, orange or what was known as harvest gold, with the occasional avocado green thrown in for good measure!)
My brand new husband guided his parents to the table with pride. The platter of sliced ham with its garland of chopped parsley looked a bit watery but acceptable. The spinach salad would pass muster. My piece de resistance was the potato salad which really did look perfect. I watched eagerly for everyone to take their first bites. I saw a peculiar expression cross my father-in-law’s face first, quickly followed the puzzled looks of my husband and mother-in-law, and hastened to taste it myself. A crunchy, raw texture filled my mouth. My potato salad was raw! I hadn’t cooked the potatoes! I had merely peeled and chopped them and then added the mayonnaise, mustard, diced celery, pickles, radishes and green onions. To me salad meant uncooked, and I had presumed the mayonnaise mixture would somehow soften and ‘cook’ the potatoes. It was utterly disgusting and inedible! Peels of laughter filled the room. We had to make do with wrinkled, rubbery ham, and gritty spinach salad from which I hadn’t washed the sand enough. The best thing by far at my very first dinner party was the store bought apple pie!
I have never achieved my mother’s Cordon Bleu greatness, but with time and patience, I have become a very good maker of delicious old-fashioned comfort food, and particularly of homemade soups, stews and casseroles. I have learned that the magic pixie dust at dinner parties with family and friends is love, laughter and belonging. It’s an invitation to partake of whatever you are offering with joie de vivre. I have also never again forgotten to cook the potatoes in a potato salad!
Oh my goodness Jo-Anne!!! You are definitely “one of us” as Katherine joked above! Your story here is brilliant – I could picture the entire scene, all the various shades of brown, orange and green. What a flashback! Well done, Jo-Anne, this is the first time I’ve ever heard of a raw potato salad.
Jo Anne, but your logic is unassailable! Salads are usually uncooked vegetables. And, if a gathering is not about the fellowship, what is the point!
It is remarkable how many times Chez Mama takes over the kitchen when you have family to impress!
Oh my — that is hilarious! And such perfect logic about the potatoes; I could see myself doing that as well. I can also relate to the kitchen being your mom’s sanctuary. My mom was the same — she was a great cook, and she didn’t yield her space lightly; I was often delegated to stirring the gravy when I asked if I could help, though peeling potatoes or carrots was marginally considered within my capabilities in a pinch. Don’t get me wrong– she did occasionally try to teach me things, but she did so many things intuitively, while I required a set of detailed, logical instructions (including, say, measurements!) that it could be stressful for both of us!
As always, a beautifully written post of a well-justified Chez Mama experience! Jane makes an excellent point that salads are very typically raw veggies! And I agree with you; what’s most important is love, laughter and belonging. That is the magic pixie dust for all dinner parties, social gatherings, and even book club meetings!
These Chez Mama recipes are both hilarious and familiar. I recognize the blender and stovetop messes (masterpieces?) all too well. Those must be Chez Mama classics! I was trying to remember a Chez Mama to share and then I recalled a unique Instant Pot dish that I made last year. It’s a mix of wonderfully over-steamed chicken finished with a burnt roasted compote of vegetables. How did I come up with such a delightful dish you might ask? I had decided to impress my family visiting from overseas with a recipe using the fool-proof gadget (or so I thought). My visitors had never seen such a grand device – what was this monstrous Instant Pot going to conjure up? As a way of backstory, I had impulsively splurged on a 10 quart Instant Pot, not the standard 6 or 8qt sizes. I don’t know why I got such a large machine given my tiny household. Anyway, the 10 quart size means means I must convert the Instant Pot recipes and calculate out different ratios of liquids to solids so that the pressure cooker does not run out of liquid as it cooks (all very complicated with volume and timing etc). But as any Chez Mama chef will tell you, for a recipe to fully succeed you must be sure to miscalculate and that’s exactly what I did. And so into the pot went the delicious onion, celery, chicken breast, fire-roasted tomatoes, and homemade chicken broth. And out came a charred, rubbery, overcooked, and simply indescribable dish. Chez Mama extraordinaire. My family were so impressed they roared with laughter, completely forgetting their empty tummies.
Thank you all for sharing your Chez Mama spirit! Every story here has made me laugh although I also feel the pain of your experiences. The raw veggies in a salad makes perfect sense, Jo-Anne. Susan, we’re all coming over for that cereal! Nancy and your Dali-esque plastic plate…I really feel for you, my friend. Libby, I’ve been known to make a tasty lasagna noodle soup that wasn’t supposed to be soup. More than once.
My friends, if ever you feel the spirit of Chez Mama take hold again, please let us all know. Even better if you share a photo! It will be good for all of us to remember that “Oh my goodness exists”.