Your mother's kitchen

Growing up in the 20th and 21st centeries, I've become accustomed to the race of technology.  When I was young, our TV was black and white and our remote control (which was awesome) was wired.  Now I can hook up my phone to a projector, both of which fit in my pocket, and watch movies anywhere.  Then there are computers, wireless HDMI, self-driving cars, and 3D printers. The world today is unrecognizable from the world my parents grew up in.

Which is why is surprises me that my kitchen hasn't changed.  The same appliances that exist today existed when my mom was my age.  There were microwaves, stand mixers, blenders, fridge-freezer combos, garbage disposals, ovens, stoves, and can openers.  With all the technology in the kitchen I would expect things to progress faster.  Even knives are the same.

More people now have espresso machines, and I'm sure the Slap Chop hasn't been around for long, but tell me it isn't odd that your grandmother would be immediately at home in your kitchen but likely be stimied by the operation of your TV or telephone.

And why is this?  Is food inherantly simple?  Have we been playing with food for so long that we've done everything possible to it?  Or is innovation slowed by either the multitude of useless single-function vapourware they sell on late-night TV that all appear to be variations on the blender or, at least, the belief that these are all useless?

I don't know, but it surprices me.

Crown Royal Maple Review

I like Crown Royal.  It's my favourite whiskey.  When I was younger I drank Crown and coke, which is still my staple at the bar.  As I've matured and become able to afford better alcohol, I've switched to either Crown Royal Limited Edition and coke or occasionally Crown Royal Special Reserve on the rocks, as it's painful to mix that.

Crown Royal recently came out with a new flavour - their first flavoured whiskey - Crown Royal Maple Finish.  As soon as you crack the bottle you'll notice the difference.  This isn't a subtle hint of maple.  The smell is potent.  The moment you twist the lid your friends will perk up, step out of their rooms, and come to the kitchen expecting pancakes.  It's like smelling the deep heart of maple syrup kingdom, which I assume lies somewhere in central Quebec.

After opening the bottle, Tom and I poured ourselves a drink, mixed with coke.

And it was horrible.  It's hard to describe how bad this was, but those two liquids shall hence forth never again be mixed.  We resolved to finish our drinks and I even poured a second, vowing to drink what I bought, and immediately regretted that decision.  While I did finish both drinks, it was through sheer pride and I would refuse another if one were to offer.  Ian's rating: undrinkable.

So time passed and the shock dissolved.  I brought the bottle to Aaron's place as a prank.  We each had a small cup neat.  It was much better on it's own, but still not great, and Aaron labelled it the pedophile's whiskey on account of the sweetness.  It is as good as drinking Crown Royal original unmixed, which is doable but not pleasant.  Ian's rating: passable.

Then Aaron tried it with coke and was immediately horrified.  I was pleased.

Next, I tried mixing it with lemon juice.  Ian's rating: also undrinkable.
Then, I tried it with limeade.  Ian's rating: drinkable but not entirely pleasant.

I was nearing my limit.  If it's maple then I will allow it to do what maple does.  I will fulfill it's destiny.  I will make pancakes.  And that's what I did.  I replaced the milk with whiskey and milk powder and the results looked great:

And with my first bite I was much more than surprised.  Shocked might be a better word.  That is a lot of alcohol for one pancake.  But the pancake was okay.  And then the burning sensation set it.  I don't know if the whiskey became more concentrated in the process, the alcohol boiled off and just left contaminants, if whiskey and flour should never be mixed, or water is necessary for flour to become edible, but whatever it was, it burned.  Except for that, and the overwhelming alcohol taste, the pancakes weren't bad.  Ian's rating: regretfully inedible.

And finally I tried Crown Royal Maple Finish with lemonade.  Surprisingly after the previous episodes, it was not bad.  One might even make the claim that it's good.  Ian's rating: well worth a second cup.

In the end I made it work, but seriously, don't waste your money.

We're smarter now

Within thirty minutes of returning home with four jars of my mom's jam, my wife and I had a serious conversation on how to handle the situation.

The decision was unanimous and we labelled the jars.

Crisis averted.