Usually my husband makes the tuna melts. In fact, if I’ve started on my own, he’ll take the spatula from my hand with a smile, and a “I’ve got this, hon.”
But one night he was working late, so I got to make them myself. I didn’t get what the big deal was. The buttered bread slices were happily sizzling while I loaded up the cheese and the tuna mixed with mayo. (I skimped on the pickles, but no one seemed to notice.)
Then it was time to flip them.
They wouldn’t flip. In fact, they wouldn’t budge without a fight. I made some headway turning the spatula upside down and scraping at an angle. Still, part of the bread just tore away and remained fixed to the pan, leaving the sandwich open and oozing cheese from a gaping wound.
Since there was a semi-permanent bread coating on the bottom of the pan, the other side wasn’t able to crisp up properly.
Or at all.
When I served the children their half crisp, half soggy, torn and battered sandwiches, my oldest looked at her plate and said,
“Well, this will be an adventure.”
I bow to my husband’s expertise. Maybe next time I should just wait for him.
What about you, readers? Is there anything that you’ve cooked that seemed like it should be easy but was surprisingly difficult? Like rice or toast? It’s okay. We’re all friends here.