Last night I made a shepherd's pie / chicken pot pie... thingy. It was a shepherd's pie except made with chicken. It was chicken pot pie except with mash instead of a crust. Whatever, it turned out pretty okay. It got no complaints- which count for nothing anyway, but it's still nice not to have to listen to whineys.
Sam got home while we were at soccer, but had eaten by the time we got home. When I asked him what he thought of it, he said, "Once I had added enough salt, it was pretty good!" Now, this is kinda a big deal for me because, while I'm a pretty decent cook- I can follow a recipe or wing it, I'm not afraid of experimenting- casseroles are not my strong suit. I generally don't like them very much- it's the abundance of sauce/gravy, which is generally over-flavored, over-slimyed, and over-salted. Did I mention over-slimyed? That texture is just wrong. So when he complimented it, I was pretty damn excited.
He: Yeah, once I added enough salt. I also added more pepper.
Ignoring the repeated salt comment, Me: I had some trouble with the pepper grinder, I figured I probably needed to add more. And I didn't want to go overboard with the spices since it was my first try. I did saute shallots and garlic in it, though.
He: Oh, I couldn't really taste them. But once I added enough salt, it was fine.
Me: Well, you know, I figured you can always add salt, but you can't take it away, and I wasn't sure how it would be once it came out of the oven. I can add more stuff next time I try it, maybe some herbs, and I can do more garlic. I did add cheese on top, did you notice?
He: Yeah, it needed more cheese, but I think everything needs more cheese. Eh, once I added enough salt, it was really good!
Me: Maybe you can't taste anything else because you always use too much salt, asshole!
And this is where I show how mature I am because that last line I only said in my head. I am so proud of me. Except now he's going to read this and know, but that's alright. I kept it to myself this long.