A Sauce Explosion

Last week, I was doing a dinner for some regular clients. I’ve been cooking for them for more than a few years, and enjoy being there. And for many of their dinners, I bring an assistant with me. Let’s call her Karen T, who is actually no relation to my wife, Karen Dz.

So, this dinner was a special one. It was the hostess’ birthday, and they had 15 guests. I decided to experiment a bit, and with the beef tenderloin entrée, I decided to make a beef stock-based sauce, with caramelized onions.

So, Karen T. and I are zipping along on the evening. The appetizers were served in the living room, and the salads were almost ready. And I had the brainstorm to get flashy with the sauce. Not that I always hear voices, but a voice somewhere in my head suggested that I puree the sauce. I thought that would be a niftier way of presenting the dinner. So I went to their regular household blender (this is what we call foreshadowing), and poured in most of the sauce. I think it’s important to mention here that I’m used to using a Vita Mix, which is a nuclear powered, industrial strength blender. A Vita Mix can puree a Buick. On its slowest speed.

So, I put in the sauce, put on the lid, and hit the on switch. A nanosecond later (if it even took that long), there was sauce everywhere, except, perhaps, in the blender. And no, as luck would have it, it couldn’t just end up on the counter. No, it splattered. Everywhere. I’d also cleverly positioned the blender next to two windows. And a window sill filled with tea canisters.

How bad was it? I think, when they make the movie of this dinner (to be directed by Brian DePalma, apparently), they’ll be calling it the Beef Sauce Chain Saw and Blender Massacre. I travel with many kitchen tools. One of them isn’t a squeegee. So I started cleaning up the window. One swipe with the paper towel made it worse, which I didn’t think was possible. And I had to serve the salads in a few minutes. Which is when the host walked into the kitchen. I was mortified. And I don’t mortify easily. He was gracious, which I think he does do easily.

That’s when Karen T. swooped in with paper towel and cider vinegar. Yes, I travel with cider vinegar. But not Windex (memo to Chef: travel with Windex).

The dinner went just fine. Everything went out on time. And I had enough sauce to make everyone happy.

The moral of the story? Duh, that’s easy. Don’t puree a lot of sauce with caramelized onions in a household blender next to two windows. Or, if you really feel compelled to do it, then do it in a stainless steel room with a hose and a drain in the middle of the floor…