Composthaste’s Weblog

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I hate recipe quiz

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I now hate the Facebook recipe quiz.

Tonight Carm has expanded the facebook page.  This has been going on for some time.  At first, it was merely joining the national movement towards “sharing”; now, she’s “updating” and “enhancing”.  She has taken a movie compatability quiz with my brother.  Apparently, they’re cinematic BFF’s.  This was all fine.  Building relationships, making friends, connecting with folks we haven’t heard from in a while.  Until, that is, the recipe quiz entered our lives.
For those who don’t know this little game, it is an online quiz from the sadists at to see who recognizes the recipe from their photo gallery. The more questions you get right, the higher you rate in their kitchen.  Some are potato peelers, some are line cooks, some are sous chefs, etc.  I don’t know the main prize, I haven’t achieved that yet.  After seeing a “potato peeler”, carm decides to rock out the recipe quiz.  This, is great.  I love to cook, she finds it tolerable.  To be fair, she’s  a wonderful chef…she’s just anal.   She finds it frustrating if exact measurements and exact times are not noted and respected.  I tend to be a more fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-Julia-Roberts-Pretty-Woman sort of girl.  It makes her crazy.  To find her having an interest in the culinary arts is, in my mind, an attempt at bonding.  How wrong I can be.
Today, while I was at work, she came home from her job and took a few quizzes (yes, a few because there is a need to win).   When I arrived home I was greeted with “You’ll never guess what I was ranked” today.  This is a statement to which there is NO appropriate response.   I waited.  “I took the recipe quiz! What do you think I would be ranked?”
Again, there is no appropriate response.  I threw out a few ideas.

“Dishwasher!”  This was my first idea… was not met well.
“Firestarter!” Playfully recalling the first meal she made for me when she ignited a paper towel.  The smile on her face was fading to  a grimace.  I tried to evoke the memories of our many breakfasts.


I was starting to lose confidence.  I was clearly not getting the clues and it was going to cost me the last glass of wine from the bottle tonight.  She gave me a hint.  “What….do….I….do…while…you…cook?”

“Neatener?!”  It’s true.  She’s really good at it.

“Card player?” We do play gin while I’m cooking sometimes…..

The answer, sadly, was “salad maker”.  You have to understand that I grew up with my mom making the most fabulous dressing that I have been trying to replicate for TEN YEARS.  Carm gets it after two tries.  She has mastered the dressing.  And I have neglected this skill.

So, now, she has elevated herself in the game and in my life as the one who can make the perfect salad.  I will be thinking a lot about this day and the fun we had laughing about it until our stomachs hurt.

I have a lot of time to think now that I sleep on the couch.


Written by composthaste

November 15, 2008 at 4:18 am

Posted in Uncategorized

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