Tonight, I was cooking filet mignon for SWMBO and I. It was a pretty simple recipie - pan fry the filets in a little oil, set 'em aside, deglaze the pan with red wine, add a little beef stock and shallots and cook down, and finish with cognac. The recipie (believe it or not) was from SWMBO's weight watchers cookbook - suprisingly yummy stuff.
While I was watching this stuff cook, it occured to me that it was going to be somewhat thin, and I prefer a sauce with a little more body than what I was seeing. Given that the final result was intended to be relatively low-fat, cream was clearly out. I didn't have time to make a roux. Then, inspiration struck - cornstarch! It works great for chinese cooking, right?
So, I reached into the pantry, grabbed the box, mixed it with a little water, and waited for the right moment to dump it in. When I thought it was time, I poured. Rather than thickening, the entire mixture foamed a little, then turned the color of india ink. More precisely, india ink with shallots floating in it. I thought, "well, dammit, that's ugly. Maybe it'll still taste ok..." If "ok" means "looks like ink, but tastes like paint" then it was ok.
I thought about cornstarch, chemistry classes in college, homebrewing, mixing custom finishes and everything else in the mental rolodex. I couldn't figure out why, exactly, this had happened. What had reacted with the cornstarch? What the hell reacts with cornstarch, anyway? Was it the wine? The sugars in the cognac? I knew it wasn't the beef stock, at any rate.
We dumped the stuff, and had the steaks plain, all the while staring at the black goo in the bowl on the table. I chalked up the whole thing as an experience. I'd have chalked it up as a learning experience, but I didn't really learn anything since I couldn't figure it out. So, still confused, I set to cleaning up the kitchen, and I found the little box I'd grabbed earlier sitting on the counter.
An orange box. With an arm. And a hammer.
Baking soda.