My worst-ever case of absent-mindedness!

 

The “soup” at right resulted from me adding a cupful of milk aiming to thicken my Irish stew without thinking!

Today, after a terrible, erratic sleep following a long trip out to Milleara Mall — where I found some very good value fruit with which I helped make a quince pie (the first made in the house all year) — I agreed with my mother to make an Irish stew. It was fitting given the shift from a long run of warm and sunny days to rain this morning.

 Last night — a very warm morning which hardly got below the temperature of a comfortable afternoon — was terrible for my sleep. This was not wholly my fault. I was repeatedly waking up to hydrate myself after the strenuous travels of yesterday had produced a bad headache. At the same time, my mother and brother have both been suffering a really bad cough, and the noise from that cough helped prevent me from settling down to sleep. The warmth meant that I was unable to get the correct temperature for sleep: it was too warm with the blanket and too cool without it, while I was not bothered to take it off and sleep with just the sheet as I normally would during very warm summer weather.

During the afternoon when I cooked the quinces and the Irish stew, this did not seem to be a problem. However, with a break in the weather around 4 P.M., I went out for a walk around to the Royal Melbourne hospital, and then was asked to thicken the Irish stew. This is when things went really awry. I rushed to get the stew thickened. However, I did not think about how to do it, thinking all I had to do was to make an unmeasured mix of milk and flour! Having recently only made chicken stews thickened via noodles, I could only think to thicken via mixing milk with flour. I did this immediately without asking for any help, but I put so much milk that when I showed my mother what I had done, I was chastised severely. I immediately showed the coffee mug (not in the photograph above) and when inquired as to why the stew was so runny, said that I had put into the stew one whole cup of milk! My mother was seriously upset, and both my mother and brother said that I should not thicken Irish stews because I do not know how to do it. I became  angry, saying that at the very least I could learn how to thicken properly.

Although I hoped that I could evaporate the milk, I know that would never be allowed! Hence I accepted removing some of the fluid as a soup — not bad to eat as I know from past experience. I was soon told that when thickening stews with flour and milk:

1. I must aim for a thickness comparable to honey or even slightly thicker than honey
2. I must add the milk to the flour and never add the flour to the milk.

The real problem for me is remembering this when I next make an Irish stew or some other type!

I any case, despite me being really upset, the stew and the quince tart did provide a nice dinner. My real hope is that I can learn how to thicken stews again!