Every year we holiday at the same place. Remote island close to
Brisbane, but far enough away to deter most people.
The house we rented (when there were 2 of us, 2 kids, 1 dog for the 3
week stay ...and several friends (of the kids) & inlaws dropping in for
a few days break) slept 12 but had a pitifully small fridge. Everything
had to be stacked on top of each other as there were a few missing
shelves. (Believe one bright spark who rented it actually used 1 or 2
as grills over an open fire bbq... hmmm... like I said, a real bright
spark)
November/December here in Queensland is stiflingly hot so it's perfect
bbq weather, cold meats, salads etc.
Mum is British through and through. If a product is English... it HAS
to be the best there is. (No, she won't be voting republican if our
government ever goes that track!) Her vehement pro-Brit monologues are
a standing joke in (my) family.(three Aussies after all!)
She had come over for a weekend break and enjoy time at the beach with
her dog.
But, despite my best efforts, insisted on 'helping' in the kitchen.
(Which was galley style and very cramped. Ideal for one. Not so ideal
for more than one.)

I'd made a tossed green salad, a potato & egg salad (her recipe
actually), a coleslaw, and a marinaded salami/tomato combo. Meat &
sausages were already on the bbq sizzling away. Table was laid.
Everything prepared.
Until......... Mum decided she and I needed a top up on our wines.
Without bending down (or looking too closely) she reached into the
fridge yanked two bottles out and unwittingly dragged out the two
salads perched atop the bottles. Calamity struck.
The spud salad survived in tact - the container had a tight fitting
lid. The coleslaw however was shot from one end of the kitchen to the
other and under the stove & fridge to boot.
Ever since, it has been a regular request at family barbecues for Mum
to 'prepare' her Special English Tossed Coleslaw!
She's never likely to live that one down.
(Sounds really lame in the retelling, but at the time it was
hysterical. She was so mortified.)


This thread also reminds me of my mother-in-law ringing me in a panic
on Christmas Day. She'd cooked a whopping great turkey with all the
trimmings in her wall oven. Her problem was that she'd rested the
baking pan on the door of the oven to baste & check if it was done....
and the oven door promptly snapped off sending the turkey and all the
vegetables scooting over her floor. Her two pekinese were delighted
with the sudden 'gift from heaven' and promptly set about snuffling
their way through the mess!
Glad I wasn't eating there that day!!! (Though it did get de-dogged,
de-doghaired etc and served up after being 'sterilised' in the oven
(with BF holding oven door in place) for a further 30 minutes.
ewwwww..... Since then, whenever we visit, we eat out at restaurants &
cafes. Or I cook. I just don't trust her!!!!


LadyJane
--
"Never trust a skinny cook!"