My husbands deep and profound love of all things pertaining to Asian cuisine, from watching the Iron Chef to eating at PF Chang's every time we are within 20 miles of a major city, has led him on a quest for the perfect bowl of rice at home. Being male, this quest has gone from a mild desire to an all consuming obsession. We have bought different types of rice, new pots for making rice, spent hundreds of dollars to satiate the need for perfect, fluffy rice. Even to the point that we now own a rice maker. Convinced that this modern wonder would be the solution that would save us from having to eat at a Chinese buffet every few weeks just so he could get his fix of rice.
So we bought the rice cooker. Convinced this was the answer to our problem. The very next day of owning this monstrosity, I made rice. I followed the directions to the letter. Who knew there were more than two steps to making rice? Apparently there are 8, according to the manufacturer's directions. Well, let's just say the rice was not up to standards. It was to mushy. So we discussed the rice and its preparation. Next time I tried the rice cooker, I didn't rinse it first, but just threw it in to the cooker and walked away. This time it was not cooked enough. As I cleaned up the kitchen after dinner, I made sure the rice cooker was put in the most inconvenient and hidden compartment of my cupboards never to be seen or heard from again.
Now, I was content to leave it at that. I don't really like rice, I'm more of a potato kind of girl. So it's been a few more weeks of meals without rice. With the occasional meal at PF Chang's and the local Chinese buffet. That is fine with me. Then I see the twinkle in my husband's eye. He is feeling the need to have a project. Uh-oh, I know what's coming. An edict will be declared through our household, and it will be my job to make sure all goes smoothly. Here is the following conversation:
Husband: “What do you want to do now?”
Wife: (absentmindedly because she is trying to read) “I don't care, wanna watch a movie?”
Husband: “I know, let's make rice!” (claps hands excitedly)
Wife: “ Ugh, now?”
Husband runs off excitedly to the kitchen. Wife follows slowly shaking her head as she hears cupboards opening and shutting.
Husband: “Where's the rice cooker?”
Wife finds it immediately after husband has been unable to.
Husband: “You know what I think went wrong? I think you didn't... BLAH BLAH BLAH
Wife: “I followed the directions exactly and you said the rice was to mushy.”
Husband: “Well, I am going to make some test rice. And I am going to make it exactly like the directions say to. (asks wife) Now, what do I do first.”
As my husband continued to bumble around in obviously unfamiliar territory (that of the kitchen and cooking in general) his enthusiasm over his project rivaled that of Tim the tool man Taylor's from Home Improvement. Then he got to step 3 on the directions, and asks “How do I know how much water to put in? It doesn't tell me anything.” I quietly turned the page to the chart explaining the rice to water amounts, with a smug smile on my face.
Husband: “But it only says to fill to line two. What's line two? I need fractions! I only want to make ½ a cup of rice, not two.”
Wife quietly points to the next column in the chart.
Husband looks with bafflement at the cup provided by the rice company.
Husband: “Ok, I'll fill this with rice to the ½ cup line. So that means I only need 1/8 cup of water. Where is the 1/8 measuring cup?”
Wife: “Just use the ¼ cup but only fill it half way.”
Husband: (skeptically) “But that won't be a completely accurate measurement to just eyeball it.... If this doesn't turn out, it's your fault.”
Note: As of this posting we have yet to make the the perfect bowl of rice.