mise en place

Inauguration to Ikea

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Today was a day full of sweaty nervousness and penultimate fear. I was anxiously eyeing a plain cardboard box that I had deposited three weeks ago in my newly cleaned office. No, it wasn’t ticking, but its length of 4 feet and its width of 1 foot and its height of 3 inches was supremely intimidating. Why? I had opened it the first day I brought it home and pulled out the 10 page booklet of instructions on how to assemble my LOTE 3 drawer chest of drawers from IKEA. “Too many pieces” was my first and last thought so I left it there, lying dormant like a Jack-In-The-Box. Today I decided it was time. My very first IKEA assembly. I was ready.

NOT !!!

I know how they came up with the name of LOTE. LOT(s) of EXASPERATION = LOTE! I had hoped that my hubby, Wiseguy, would take pity on me and surprise me by doing that husbandly / manly thing of using a screwdriver to create the final masterpiece. It didn’t happen. So today I decided it was time for me to delve into the mysterious world of “building” something because it couldn’t really be that hard right?

The reason I held off for so long was that the first page showed me all the parts that had been hidden within the confines of that simple flat cardboard box. Here is the breakdown:

4 x screw # 144821

4 x screw # 105007

24 x screw # 108461

4 x screw # 107605

12 x screw # 144741

36 x ummmm…not a screw – maybe a bolt?

12 x uhhhh….hmmmm…plastic hole filler with a hole in it?

Then there were these plastic pretend edges for the drawers. A couple of metal pieces for the … frame? Sure, that’s what they were for. And so began my adventure into the vortex of humility, shame, anger, frustration, elation, exhaustion. Yes, IKEA – I Know Embarrassment Abounds.

I decided to approach this magnificent build by using my baking and cooking knowledge: Mise en place. I took out ALL the pieces and laid them out on the floor around me. I counted each screw and put them in their appropriate size grouping. The nervous tension rose as I worried it might be like a puzzle from my childhood with one piece missing. And breathe…all pieces were accounted for. Now….onto the diagrams!

The good thing about IKEA manuals is that there are no words. There are black and white pictures with arrows and an X through the screws that you aren’t supposed to use or an X to show you which way NOT to assemble the furniture. The bad news is that there are only black and white pictures with arrows and an X through the screws that you aren’t supposed to use or an X to show you which way NOT to assemble the furniture.

After the first 30 minutes I miraculously managed to build the frame. The first 10 minutes were used to uncover the magic X shaped screwdriver from the Tool Vault in Wiseguy’s workshop. No problemo after that. I planted my derriere on the floor and started the assembly process. Screw wouldn’t fit into bolt. Bolt flew out of my hands across the floor. Got a charley horse from sitting on floor. Screw flew out of my hands across the floor. Used my chin to hold frame in place while I put screw through hole. Used my thighs to hold everything together. Screw was not fitting into bolt. Bolt fell out, screw fell to floor. Screwdriver clanked to floor. This is what building IKEA items must be like.

Then my mind started to wander as it is wont to do when trying to acclimatize itself to a new and unyieldingly unsatisfying situation.

My brain: Forget the old days of making license plates while incarcerated. Inmates should be made to assemble IKEA furniture. That would create a significant decrease in crime.

EXAMPLE: Convicted serial killer. Judge passes sentencing: “Killer of multiple people, you have been tried by a jury of your peers and sentenced to life in prison without parole. You will be spending each day of your life assembling LOTE 3 drawer chests.

CSK: *cries of woe and sorrow* – NOOOOOOOOOOO!

(Somewhere in little Italy – Mafia meeting): Big Joe: “Dats right! Ya hurd me! No more murderin’! I ain’t goona hafta build no Aj-kija (translation IKEA) F-in furniture!”

My brain: *at Ikea University* – Professor to student: “Congratulations Sigge (means ‘one who is always victorious’) Bilderson (means ‘one who is son of a builder’…ok I made that up). I present you with your diploma for having successfully completed your Masters Degree in Frustration Free Assemblage and Visionary Building of Ikea Furniture. *loud cheers and raucous noise of approval*

My brain: what the F was I thinking! No wait…I can do this! I am a full grown smart adult woman with extensive life experience. I have created exotic meals in my wonderfully exotic kitchen full of Subzero Wolf appliances…you can do this!!!

My leg: Ow….cramp cramp cramp cramp! (yes, my leg has a voice … doesn’t yours?)

Time lapse: One hour and 32 minutes later

I DID IT! Yes I did! Whoot whoot whoot!!!

My pampered computer finger tips were swollen and throbbing from holding the bolt while I twisted all the screws in. My legs were numb from trying to find a comfortable position on the parquet floor. My brain was attempting to process the fact that I had, indeed, completed the designated task. All was well. A job well done.

It wasn’t until I put the drawers into their allocated positions that the red alert sounded in my brain. I had misinterpreted one of the simple black and white diagrams and had screwed the metal slider on the drawer incorrectly. Was I shocked? No. Was I disappointed. Absolutely! It’s like running a 10 km marathon and getting to 9.5 km thinking you won and realizing…nope….not done yet! Unscrew. Move piece. Rescrew (yup, that is now a word). AND…DONE!

I would’ve celebrated with a funky boo-yah type dance, but my left leg was numb and there was a weird twitch in my right ankle. I managed to erect myself without falling over and considered that a win. I pushed away from Frankenstein / Ikea 3-drawer pet project. No pride of ownership. No pat on the back for a job well done. It was more of an acknowledgement of defeat. IKEA…you have won…THIS TIME!

I will stick to amusing myself with children’s colouring books. I will prepare fancy meals for my family. I might even mow the lawn. With my white flag waving proudly in the wind, I solemnly swear that I will no longer attempt to purchase and/or assemble IKEA furniture. I will leave the screwdriver and hex key (yeah…hex…meaning ‘cast a spell’… see I knew IKEA had an evil streak) to the men and women and adventurous children who would love to spend hours playing with the puzzle pieces of adversity that is IKEA furniture.

Mise en place or…buy another cake mix

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Once upon a time there was a lovely young woman called Maryann.  She had dark chestnut coloured hair (at that time…although now it’s purply-brown and was at one point very blonde and at times quite auburn) and ka-ka-brown cow eyes.  Her smile was as large as Steven Tyler’s and she was very happy.  There was one thing that Maryann hoped to do one day and that was to bake and decorate a chocolate cake.  On this particularly sunny day, her wish came true.  The ending, however, was not what she had expected.

Maryann was thrilled to finally have a kitchen of her own.  She had moved out of her parental home and was now in an apartment with her sweetheart, Wiseguy.  It was also her sweetie’s birthday soon and she was going to bake him a lovely cake!  Now, she knew that she had to start slow with her new hobby of baking so she decided to play it safe.  She purchased a box of Duncan Hines chocolate fudge cake mix and debated purchasing the sugary, sweet frosting as well, but then decided that she would impress her loved one by topping her gloriously, chocolatey cake with REAL whipped cream.  Yes!  She would buy that 35% whipping cream, and make billowy, thick pillows of creamy goodness.  Maryann also bought some candles and, to make it fun, cake writing gel to write “Happy Birthday” on it!  What a wonderful surprise it would be for her hubby!

“Ok,” she began reading, “preheat oven to 350 degrees”.  She opened the oven door to ensure that there was nothing inside.  Why?  Because one day, at her mother-in-law’s house, she turned on the stove, smelled something funny after a little while and realized that there were pans with oil in the stove.  YIKES!  Lesson learned and etched her happy little brain.

“Next I need to put contents of package into a bowl and add one cup water, 1/3 cup vegetable oil, and 3 eggs.”  She had heard about this thing called mise en place which in French means something like “everything in it’s place”, but in cooking it means “make sure you have all your ingredients out and ready to go and also your measuring cups and measuring spoons and baking dishes…basically everything you need to make this cake should be right in front of you.”  The pretty Maryann got out her measuring cup.  She poured the oil into the cup (exactly 1/3 cup) and put it into the mixing bowl with the cake mix.  Next, she poured one cup water into the measuring cup.  Perfect!  Into the bowl it went.  She heard the oven ‘beep’ letting her know that the oven was preheated to 350 degrees.  Yay!  Time to get mixing!

She whipped that batter with an electric mixer.   A couple of taste tests to remind her of her childhood.  After a few minutes she stopped the mixing and eased her lovely greased cake pan closer to the bowl.  She emptied the fluid, chocolate contents into the cake pan.  With her spatula she tried to get every last bit out of the bowl into the cake pan to make sure she had a nice, big cake for Wiseguy.  Tap, tap, tap to even it out and then into the oven it went.  She set the timer for 30 minutes (it was a rectangular 9″ x 13″ pan).  She couldn’t wait until it was done!

Time passed.  The timer finally chirped.  Her birthday cake was ready to come out of the oven and cool for a bit.  Oh the excitement!  Oh the pride!  She had done it!  She opened the oven door and…ohhhh….she had done it alright.  Her cake was almost flat!  How could she possibly screw up a boxed cake mix?  Really?  Seriously?  Was she never going to learn to bake anything?  Sadly, with her oven-mitted hands, she pulled out her pancake-style chocolate birthday cake and sighed.  She gently laid rest her unfortunate experiment on the stove top to cool.  Maybe it could be salvaged somehow.  If it tasted good then all was well.  Taste is one thing, but…

After 15 minutes she tried to cut out a piece.  It crumbled in her hands.  Huh?  It tasted fine, but it all fell apart, like cereal out of its box.  The lovely Maryann had to admit that she would never, ever be a baker of anything.  She went back to her kitchen counter to gather up everything to wash when she noticed something odd.

Three large size eggs were sitting on her counter.  Why were there eggs on her counter?  Had she taken them out to make something else?  She HAD put those other 3 eggs into her cake mix right?  She looked at them.  With the suddenness of a swooping eagle going for its prey, Maryann realized, “Oh my!  I forgot the eggs.”  Yes, if you look back to paragraph 4 (it begins with “Next I need to”) you will indeed see that after the ‘ding’ of the oven the eggs were omitted prior to the exuberant mixing.

There you have it.  The story of the lovely Maryann and her first attempt to bake something.  She didn’t give up though.  She now bakes cookies, pies, pretzels, oh and boxed cake mixes.  Maryann learned from her mistake, was grateful to have learned it and is now excited when trying new recipes.  Mise en place is her motto and way of baking and cooking.

Moral of the story:  If at first you don’t succeed, be grateful that you had the mistake to learn from and use it to make greater things in your life.

or

If at first you don’t succeed remember “mise en place”, buy another cake mix and ADD THE EGGS FIRST!