Tiny Detail Big Difference

Even before the bread came out of the oven, the house was filled with familiar mouth-watering smell of heavenly yumminess. When the slender loaves popped onto the kitchen counter, they were absolutely gorgeous. Beautifully shaped with maidenly blush along their gently rounded tops.

Before we could dig in, we had to wait for the results of our usual crust-crunchiness test, monitored by the only musician in the family. He gave his thumbs up to an already drooling crew. We were bowl-full of expectations that the taste would if not exceed, at least meet the excellence standard of all the other measurements.

We all got our first bite around the same time.

In an instant, all the crunch-crunching of the crust was stopped. And there was deafly silence.

We looked at each other, unsure how to respond… somewhat like the stunned crowd in the Emperor’s New Clothes. 

 

It’s… it’s so… so… bland.  

The first polite comment opened up the dam and picturesque realty flowed in.

Bleuh! This taste like warmed-up sea foam sponge!

Or baked chalk and plaster…

I never tasted warmed up sea foam sponge and never had baked chalk and plaster. But, the piece of my mouth... I roll it around, waiting for some magical improvement. But, there is no magic and no improvement.  I am so confused.  How could something that smells so good, and looks so good, and sounds so good taste so awful?!!!

Salt! No salt at all.   You left the salt out.      

It was just a tiny teaspoon of salt… I mutter. A negligible smudge on the page I swiftly ignored. … Who would have guessed that it could make such a big difference?