Homemade is Not Always Best Made

Today was Father’s Day which meant I got to be lazy. Granted, this is not much different from my usual Sunday except that today I didn’t even try to pretend to be busy.

My Father’s Day meal was homemade pizza–lovingly made by She Who Must Be Obeyed and our youngest whilst our oldest pretended to study for exams–which got me thinking about the things I like when they’re homemade and the things I don’t.

I like homemade pizza. It’s a lot of work, especially as we don’t have a proper oven, but the results are usually tasty. SWMBO has developed a system involving pan frying and toasting that produces very good results. I taught her to make crust from scratch and she moved on from there and modified the system a bit. My only complaint about homemade pizza is that there never seems to be enough left over for breakfast. Someday I’ll have to save some and see how it tastes cold.

I don’t like homemade French fries. More specifically, I don’t like making homemade French fries as they require something like 27 different freezing and thawing and drying and frying steps over a span of weeks in order to produce one small order of properly cooked fries. I’d rather buy them frozen and deep fry them than work out the math and chemistry required to make them from scratch at home.

Homemade ice cream is awesome. I vaguely remember being disappointed a couple times that I was getting homemade ice cream instead of Neapolitan but I also remember always liking the homemade ice cream. SWMBO found a decent recipe that involves cream and crushed Oreo cookies, but I’m looking for a proper ice cream maker and a lot of rock salt.

Currently we have a device for making homemade snow cones but I’m not a big fan of the syrup the Japanese use. I’d rather get an ice cream maker.

Homemade hamburgers are problematic. First they depend on how well you form the ground beef patties so that they don’t shrink into a little ball that doesn’t fit the bun. Second, they depend on if you have proper buns are not. I’ve had the little chunk of burger between two slices of white bread before and it was not the greatest experience.

The argument that it tastes the same is just wrong. If it doesn’t look the same it can’t possibly taste the same.

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