Plunging knives. Blood-curdling screams. Shrieks of despair.
And that's not even Halloween. It's just the scene in our kitchens.
Cooking isn't hard, but sometimes things get scary. Maybe you can't face doing something for the first time, or when something doesn't turn out, you lose your nerve to try it again.
Even I have a scared-cook experience. I call it “Night of the Living Lobster.” It was a Chinese recipe that called for killing a lobster without steaming it first. The chef books I consulted assured me it was easy. Just a quick jab down between the lobster's head and body with the point of a chef's knife.
I aimed carefully, pointed and jabbed. The lobster was dead.
But what the books don't tell you is that dead lobsters don't always stop moving. The swimmerettes – the hairy-looking feet – and the antenna kept twitching. For a very long time. It was like a culinary version of Edgar Allan Poe's “The Tell-Tale Heart.”
I'll stick to steaming, thanks.
But lobster-steaming also ranks high on the list of Things Cooks Fear. Run an Internet search on the phrase “cooking fear” and you will see lobster tales, food-processor intimidation and fear of frying.
When we asked readers to confess their food fears, Margie Dickey of Hickory shared her lobster tale. It involved a very large live lobster she was given as a gift. She put it in a bucket of water, where it promptly died. So she threw it in her kids' red wagon and rushed to a friend's house for immediate cooking.
Stuffed into a giant pot, the lobster whacked against the lid like that scene in “Julie & Julia.” It was just a reflex of muscles contracting, but it still scared her.
Needless to say, Dickey is not a fan of cooking lobsters.
For Catherine Schiffel of Hickory, it's gelatin. She can't get it to gel. No, she doesn't use fresh pineapple, a known gelatin killer.
“I really do think it is my voodoo,” she writes. “After all, even little children can make Jell-O. Even my husband can make Jell-O.”
Other than pointing out that lobsters are vicious creatures that probably wouldn't hesitate to steam you (and confessing that I have no idea why Schiffel's Jell-O won't gel), I can't offer Dickey or Schiffel much solace.
But here are some ideas on other fright-night tales.
Fear of yeast
Charlotte food blogger Cheri Wiles confesses she's never had the guts to make anything from yeast. “The thought of my yeast failing to proof gives me the heebie-jeebies.”
Solution: A packet of yeast doesn't cost much, so give yourself a chance to see how easy it is without risking a batch of bread. The only trick is giving the yeast something to eat and the right temperature of water, between 105 and 115 degrees. Since body temperature is about 98.6, if you run tap water until it feels very warm but not hot, it will be in range. Rinse a bowl with warm water first (cold glass lowers the temperature), then add 1 cup warm water and 1 tablespoon sugar. Sprinkle in the yeast and stir gently. Let it stand about 5 minutes and look: If it's creamy, foamy and bubbly, you brought the yeast to life.
Do your best Dr. Frankenstein: “It's alive!” Do it again with flour and salt, and you've got dough.
Fear of biscuits
An online reader mourned about his biscuit failure. “I've tried all the tips and recipes. Still searching for that golden brown on the outside and fluffy on the inside, cathead biscuit.”
Solution: Cathead biscuits are a nickname for drop biscuits, which are craggy with a fluffy inside.
Since you've tried other tips, we're giving you permission to cheat. The best and easiest version of that kind of biscuit is a variation of the popular Red Lobster biscuit made with baking mix. Try it a few times to get your confidence up.
Fear of sauces
An anonymous reader is afraid of sauces you have to thicken, such as hollandaise.
Solution: Two words – microwave hollandaise. It's easy to make and you can reheat it without having it separate or curdle. If you're trying to impress someone with a fancy dish, they'll never know the difference.
Fear of meat
Mary Heddens of Charlotte is a senior citizen who has always dreamed of cooking a standing rib roast. “When young, we couldn't afford it, and now I'm afraid to try it.”
Solution: A $60 roast is a terrible thing to waste. But a standing rib roast is forgiving. It's well-marbled with fat so it has plenty of flavor, and since it's a big hunk of meat, you'll end up with everything from medium on the outside to rare on the inside. Even the bones help, acting as insulators to spread the heat evenly.
Here's how we do it: Take the meat out of the refrigerator for about 30 minutes while you heat the oven to 450 degrees. Salt and pepper the meat. Place it in a roasting pan with the meat resting on the bones and the fat on top. Slide a meat thermometer into the center, making sure it's not touching bone. Put it in the oven for 30 minutes. Reduce the heat to 350 degrees, and roast until the thermometer hits 120 degrees. Take it out of the oven and let it stand 30 minutes before slicing.
Fear of thermometers
As if turkeys weren't intimidating enough, Joanne Rossman of Charlotte was cooking Thanksgiving dinner when her meat thermometer broke in action and mercury leaked into the bird. The turkey went in the garbage and Rossman's family ate frozen chicken from the nearest convenience store.
Solution: For mercury-tainted turkey, there's nothing you can do. But today's food thermometers don't use mercury at all. They range from $20 for a good one to $50 for a fancy remote thermometer with a probe.
For all of you who fear undercooked chicken, an instant-read thermometer only costs about $10 and you can use it to make sure the breast and thigh are both 160 degrees. To make sure it's reading correctly, bring a pot of water to boil, stick the thermometer in about halfway up the stem and make sure it's reading 212 degrees. If it isn't, you can adjust it.








