The Culinary Disaster

This short story is from <Heartwarming Collection of Short Stories for Seniors: 2 Books in 1> by Bradley Windrow. It is perfect for seniors, even for dementia patients. Be sure to read until the end, as there’s a special gift waiting for you! hope you enjoy it!

I have not failed. I’ve just found 10,000 ways that won’t work. –Thomas A. Edison

“Today’s the day,” Pete muttered under his breath. “Today, I become a master chef.” After all, how hard could it be? His wife had made chicken casserole a hundred times and it always looked easy. Plus, he had watched enough cooking shows to pick up a few tricks. Right? He scanned the recipe.

“Two cloves of garlic.” Pete stared at the garlic bulb. “Cloves… cloves… wait, what even is a clove? I mean, it’s all garlic, right?” He shrugged and, feeling overly cautious, decided to chop up two entire heads of garlic. “Garlic’s healthy,” he reasoned, “and it’ll keep vampires away. Win-win.” As the garlic sizzled away in the pan, the kitchen filled with an eye-watering intensity that had Pete coughing.

“Alright, maybe… maybe that’s a bit much.” But he pushed on, undeterred. The recipe now called for “a dash of salt.” Pete squinted at the card, confused. “A dash? Why are they being so vague? A ‘dash’ could be anything! Ugh, I hate cooking with feelings.”

He reached for the salt shaker but quickly abandoned it in favor of a heaping spoonful of salt from the container. “This feels more precise. No one’s ever complained about too much salt, right?” The next ingredient was supposed to be one tablespoon of tomato paste. Pete eyed the small can in his hand and then looked at the pot.

“One tablespoon? Really? Who uses a tablespoon and then leaves the rest of the can? That’s just wasteful.” He dumped the entire can into the sauce, stirring it with gusto. The mixture began to thicken immediately, forming what looked like sticky, red cement.

“Okay, that seems… robust,” Pete muttered, wiping sweat from his brow. He was starting to feel the pressure. The kitchen was hotter than usual, and the garlic scent had somehow penetrated his eyes. Just then, disaster struck. Pete mistook the sugar for flour, dumping a cup of it into the pot.

“Why does flour smell sweet today?” he wondered aloud as the sauce became syrupy. In the chaos of stirring the sugary concoction, Pete forgot about the chicken in the oven. The faint smell of burning meat started to fill the room.

“Oh no, no, no!” Pete yanked open the oven door to find the chicken blackened beyond recognition. “Well, that’s… crispy,” he said, waving smoke out of his face.

His wife and son walked in as if on cue, stopping dead in their tracks. Smoke hung in the air, garlic stung their eyes, and the scene before them looked like a battlefield after the Great Casserole War.

“What… did you do?” His wife raised an eyebrow. Pete, holding up the charcoal remains of the casserole, managed a sheepish grin.

“I, uh, added my own twist. It’s… avant-garde.”

“Avant-garde?” His son looked at the dish with wide eyes. “Dad, it looks like you fought the casserole, and the casserole won.” His wife couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing.

“Oh, Pete, you didn’t “twist” the recipe—you turned it into a crime scene!”

“Hey!” Pete protested, though he couldn’t help but laugh too. “Maybe I’m just too creative for this dish. You know, it’s a culinary masterpiece. Not everyone will understand my art.”

“Well, next time,” his wife said, still chuckling as she took a photo of the disaster, “we’re sticking to takeout.”

I hope you enjoyed the story, before the special gift, can I ask a small favor?

If you enjoy the story, please consider supporting a small author like me, by leaving a review or purchasing the book. Your support helps me create more stories like this one. Much appreciated!

Free Special Gift

More Free Short Stories

Click Here to go back to the complete list of free short stories.