Skilled Or Stubborn?
Apr. 30th, 2022 08:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyspriteSometimes I wonder how much of my success in life is actually attributable to skill or talent, and how much is just my absolute refusal to actually acknowledge defeat?
Case in point: last night I decided to tackle a "new" vintage recipe for caramel dumplings. It sounded pretty simple; a basic sweet dumpling batter cooked in a caramel sauce. It's that last bit that turned out to be the problem.
I've made caramel before, but this was an odd technique that basically called for melting sugar JUST RIGHT, then adding boiling water. And the instructions were incredibly vague. Which led to our first pan of sugar clumping up like damp rocks, and then crystallizing into a delicious-smelling art deco sculpture.
But it's just sugar, right? So I figured I'd try again. Another cup of sugar into the skillet, and this time watch and wait longer for the sugar to melt.
And wait. And wait. Husband staring over my shoulder, both of us starting to jump at optical illusions of shimmering bits, until FOR REAL there was actually a spot of molten sugar. Time to stir. Recipe says this will make a smooth caramel, so it'll work, right?
Or maybe you get another pan full of weird grainy tooth-looking lumps. So what. Keep stirring. Maybe bash some of your frustration out on the lumps with the wooden spoon. Now they're weird crumbly brown lumps. Husband expresses his regret that things haven't worked. But why? It's not officially failed yet. Keep stirring.
Now they're wet melty brown lumps. Husband asks if it's actually starting to work. Tell him to hush, and not even LOOK at the stuff too hard. And maybe this is what it's supposed to look like?
Pour in the water, making sure it's still at an actual boil this time. Try not to choke on sugar steam, and keep freaking stirring, poking at the one or two ribbons of hard candy that have sedimented out. Husband looks at you hammering at one corner of the pan and once again expresses remorse at the failure, reminding you that even professional chefs can fuck up caramel. Remind him again that you're NOT FREAKING DONE, and that it's sugar in hot water and it should theoretically dissolve eventually, right????
Keep stabbing (it's not really stirring anymore, at this point), until the sugar blobs are mostly melty. Make an epic mess trying to drop sticky dumpling dough onto what is either the world's thinnest caramel or sweet burnt water. Stick it in the oven and figure that, no matter what, at least you tried.
Half an hour later, pull out a pan of sweet dumplings in the most glorious velvety caramel sauce you've ever seen.
I don't know that I can claim any talent or gift here; as far as I can tell this is seriously just a matter of refusal to acknowledge failure. On the other hand, if I can win a battle of wills with a skillet full of sugar, what can't I do?
Case in point: last night I decided to tackle a "new" vintage recipe for caramel dumplings. It sounded pretty simple; a basic sweet dumpling batter cooked in a caramel sauce. It's that last bit that turned out to be the problem.
I've made caramel before, but this was an odd technique that basically called for melting sugar JUST RIGHT, then adding boiling water. And the instructions were incredibly vague. Which led to our first pan of sugar clumping up like damp rocks, and then crystallizing into a delicious-smelling art deco sculpture.
But it's just sugar, right? So I figured I'd try again. Another cup of sugar into the skillet, and this time watch and wait longer for the sugar to melt.
And wait. And wait. Husband staring over my shoulder, both of us starting to jump at optical illusions of shimmering bits, until FOR REAL there was actually a spot of molten sugar. Time to stir. Recipe says this will make a smooth caramel, so it'll work, right?
Or maybe you get another pan full of weird grainy tooth-looking lumps. So what. Keep stirring. Maybe bash some of your frustration out on the lumps with the wooden spoon. Now they're weird crumbly brown lumps. Husband expresses his regret that things haven't worked. But why? It's not officially failed yet. Keep stirring.
Now they're wet melty brown lumps. Husband asks if it's actually starting to work. Tell him to hush, and not even LOOK at the stuff too hard. And maybe this is what it's supposed to look like?
Pour in the water, making sure it's still at an actual boil this time. Try not to choke on sugar steam, and keep freaking stirring, poking at the one or two ribbons of hard candy that have sedimented out. Husband looks at you hammering at one corner of the pan and once again expresses remorse at the failure, reminding you that even professional chefs can fuck up caramel. Remind him again that you're NOT FREAKING DONE, and that it's sugar in hot water and it should theoretically dissolve eventually, right????
Keep stabbing (it's not really stirring anymore, at this point), until the sugar blobs are mostly melty. Make an epic mess trying to drop sticky dumpling dough onto what is either the world's thinnest caramel or sweet burnt water. Stick it in the oven and figure that, no matter what, at least you tried.
Half an hour later, pull out a pan of sweet dumplings in the most glorious velvety caramel sauce you've ever seen.
I don't know that I can claim any talent or gift here; as far as I can tell this is seriously just a matter of refusal to acknowledge failure. On the other hand, if I can win a battle of wills with a skillet full of sugar, what can't I do?
no subject
Date: 2022-04-30 09:06 pm (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2022-05-01 04:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2022-05-01 03:17 pm (UTC)She told me, maybe 10 years back, (maybe more) that the reason they got the paper and none of the other teams doing it did is that they just. Kept going. Didn't give up on it, even when it looked hard.
Anyway. What I mean is: probably 75% of skill is having talent and then being really stubborn about making it work.