Getting the best of you.
Getting the best of you.
This is a platform for User Generated Content. G/O Media assumes no liability for content posted by Kinja users to this platform.

Emergency Food: I Done Fucked Up

Illustration for article titled Emergency Food: I Done Fucked Up

As I've mentioned before, I have nothing but emergency food in my pantry at the moment. So far I've managed to do all right. There's definitely nothing fancy, and I have gone out a couple of times since last week, but for the most part I've been eating peanut butter toast and soup and it's all been fine.

Advertisement

Then, yesterday, the worst happened: I ran out of soup. I wanted something a little bit more substantial than peanut butter and was too cheap to order in, but I had rice and tuna fish and black beans and sweet corn and chunky tomato salsa, so I decided to throw that all together. I've made a million variants on this dish in the past, including one with (admittedly not canned) tuna, so I figured it would be serviceable, if nothing something I'd ever serve to anyone else.

Advertisement

It was (is. I still have a nearly-full pot of it sitting in my refrigerator judging me) a tire fire of a meal, y'all. I fucked up on so, so many levels.

First, I decided to cook the rice on the stove top. I've done this a couple times before, but I also very firmly believe that minute rice is a gift from God. I had several cups of leftover Texmati from a few weeks ago when I prepared an actual meal for actual people, and thought it would be a good idea to just kill that while I had the chance.

Advertisement

I did not rinse the rice. I did not use enough water. I did not use any oil to prevent the rice from sticking to the bottom of the pot. I did not cook the rice long enough. I need to buy a rice cooker immediately. My rice came out an unevenly cooked, bottom-layer burnt mess.

Okay, I thought to myself. This is salvageable. I have to cook everything else, to, so I might as well just let the liquids from all the other stuff finish cooking the rice.

Advertisement

I added the tuna, as one does. Then I added beans. The beans were not black, though. I had three cans of beans in my pantry—two black, one of Bush's Original Baked (with bacon!) that was purchased by unknown persons for probably nefarious purposes. I used the Bush's.

I stared at the abomination in horror. I almost cried. I decided not to waste my sweet corn or my yummy salsa. Eventually I bit the bullet and stirred everything together, trying to convince myself that it wouldn't be so bad.

Advertisement

I lost my appetite, but forced myself to eat a couple of bites. It was that bad.

But because I am cheap, I couldn't bring myself to toss what ended up being quite a lot of food without at least giving it the college fraternity hazing try. I stuck the entire thing in the fridge and tried to pretend that it didn't exist.

Advertisement

I got home this evening and forced myself to eat another few bites. It was still bad. I wondered if maybe it would be better if I warmed it up. It was not better. I added salt and pepper. Still no good. In a fit of desperation, I topped the whole thing with tarragon, which makes everything better.

Tarragon did not make this better. Nothing can make this better. This is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad meal. I hate myself for preparing it. God hates me for preparing it. My mother, bless her heart, will hate me if she ever finds out I prepared it.

Advertisement

Civilizations will fall if this dish ever makes it into our wider culinary consciousness as anything less than a cautionary tale told by drunk college students in questionable kitchens.

Learn from my mistakes, ladies and gentlemen. Rinse the rice and read the goddamn labels.

Advertisement
Illustration for article titled Emergency Food: I Done Fucked Up

Share This Story

Get our newsletter