Shit I Done Cooked: Florentine Ham Grill

Posted on January 14, 2014


I’m an abysmal cook. Whenever I’ve been asked if I can cook, I’ll pretty much 100% of the time reply with a curt ‘yeah, I’ve dabbled in the past, never really had too much of a chance though’, which is a complete lie. I cooked a lot of pasta during university, a lot, and also did some chicken wrapped in ham rubbish, but that’s as good as it gets. But hey, we all need to grow up sometimes. I’m pretty close to having an actual job and committing to a new place, so why not learn to cook at the same time? I’m not sure what I mean by learn, but I need to start doing this sort of rubbish. The results might not be the best, but a man can’t live on lasagne all of his life. I might as well document the results too. I started this evening, and I started with a Florentine Ham Grill.

What’s a Florentine Ham Grill I hear you cry? Well, it’s a dish that has ham on the bottom, some spinach on top of that, a load of salt and pepper to season. Crack you some eggs, drizzle you some single cream, and ply the cheese on top. Shove the whole enchilada (note: not an enchilada) under the grill, sit back and wait. Only wait for about 10 minutes though, otherwise that shizzle be burnt. Once your painstaking wait is over, pluck it out, plop it on a plate, chomp down. Job’s a good un.

I followed the steps, step by step by step. The ham was elegantly placed on the seabed of the dish, followed by a load of spinach. Salt? Check. Pepper? Check. Even I know how to crack eggs, and three of the bastards were cracked all over that. Four tablespoons of single cream later, and holy crap did this look messy. Unfortunately, my lack of cooking experience kicked in at this point, and my inherent lack of confidence was ramped up. So, in order to save my bacon (read: florentine ham grill), I drowned the thing in cheese. Cheese everywhere. Under the grill, lovely. A few minutes later, all I could smell was cheese. Not necessarily a bad thing. Out of the grill it comes, and I’ll be honest, it looked like a glorified omelette. Not even a glorified omelette, a shit omelette. 

But, all of this cooking comes down to a single question. How did it taste? In a word? Mediocre. My mistake was quite blatantly the cheese fiasco. It’s left me with a bit of a sickly taste in the roof of my mouth. Everything else went pretty okay, but needless to say I didn’t finish it. I’m but a small man, all be it a fatter man than I once was, and a whole dish is too much. It could have done with something on the side as well, maybe some garlic bread. I feel a bit ill now, which most certainly is a bad thing. 

Things can only get better.

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