Of all the warriors who signed on for my Fridge Whisperer: Sunday Supper… any night of the week recipe testing-tasting challenge, Cathy W, I knew, would be my dark horse.

Deep down, I think, Cathy longs for the sights, sounds and aromas of her kitchen but donning a “devil may care” attitude is not in keeping with her personality.

By day Cathy is a most experienced and much-sought-after book editor and copy editing instructor at Ryerson University.

Dangling participles in Cathy’s world are persona non grata.

Evidence of this was when she said to me, “Hey, Deb! I wrote a blog post [for you]. It’s probably too long. Feel free to edit it down — just make sure it’s grammatical!”

Duly noted, Madame Tester-Taster. I will cut/paste your post verbatim.

Says the oh-so-whitty Cathy, “I’m attaching some pictures too. Use whatever you’d like. One is of the dogs in the kitchen, because if I’m cooking, they think it’s for them… since it usually is.”

Ah, the unconditional love of a good dog… or three, as is the case in Cathy’s kitchen most times.

My husband is the cook in our house. I cook for my dogs and occasionally heat up something from M&M Meats, and I must admit I make a damn fine lasagna, but that’s the limit of my culinary comfort zone, and I seldom venture beyond it.

About a month ago, though, Chef Deb put out a request for recipe testers, and bravely, I answered the call. Well, there wasn’t really any bravery because I thought all I’d have to do was TASTE the food, not actually COOK it! So, scratch the bravely. I answered the call, signed up for I knew not what, and then (and here’s where the bravery did come in) didn’t back down once I got the full picture.

Deb emailed me a recipe with the fancy name “Lemon Cream Tagliatelle with Pancetta and Arugula.” I had no idea what tagliatelle was, nor did I know what pancetta was. When I emailed her panicked about my ability to do this, she told me she chose this recipe for me because the ingredients are straightforward (I was doubtful) but the method required several different techniques that would add depth of flavour: cooking pasta al dente, deglazing, creating a pan sauce to perfect nappe consistency, and marrying pasta to sauce. I almost packed it in then and there! The only time I’ve ever cooked pasta al dente, it was by accident, and I had no idea what “deglazing” or “nappe consistency” even meant.

However, I had made a commitment to a friend, and I didn’t want to let her down. So I invited two guests for Sunday dinner at my house.

That afternoon, I went shopping for the recipe ingredients. As mentioned, my husband’s the household cook. He’s also the household grocery shopper. So this shopping trip was a bit of a project. The pancetta was available at the deli counter, and I was even able to have the guy behind the counter slice it to the requisite ¼ inch for me. That saved me some work. I almost gave up on finding the right pasta, but just before I placed an emergency call to Deb for advice on what to substitute, I spotted a package of tagliatelle on the bottom shelf. Whew!

Once home, I set to work. My water was heating up, my oil and butter were heating up, and then my husband, Wes, said, “Don’t you have prepping to do?” I confidently replied, “The recipe starts with heating the pasta water and the oil.” He told me I had to read the whole recipe first and prepare my ingredients. Huh. I now know for next time. (Maybe this is one of the reasons I’ve never been a good cook!) Once I slowed down to read through the recipe, I realized my lemon was missing. It was one of the main ingredients. I couldn’t do this without my lemon! I knew I had picked one up. (I’d searched the pile for the yellowest, least marred one. It was picture perfect.) Somehow, though, it didn’t arrive home with me. Wes, sweet guy that he is, ran out to get me another lemon. His wasn’t as pretty, but it did the job. While he was gone, I diced my pancetta and arranged my ingredients neatly on the counter so I could take a picture.

I then followed the recipe to the letter. I panicked a little when I realized my pancetta was cooking too quickly and was probably a little overcooked (it smoked the kitchen up pretty good!), but I recovered and just carried on (I’ve been known to give up midway and order in). The end product looked great on the plate, so I felt very good serving it, even though I wasn’t yet sure it would be tasty. How much would my burning the pancetta affect the dish? (Not at all.) Did I overcook the pasta? (Yes, but I think it was still really good!) Was going with the top end of the red pepper flakes portion the right move? (Absolutely!)

I was so anxious to try the dish that I almost forgot to wait for the wine to be poured. Once everyone else had wine and I had my glass of milk (to me, pasta and milk are the perfect pair), I dug my fork in and took the first bite. Wow! I loved this dish! I couldn’t believe I had made it! The hint of lemon was perfect, and although it looked a little light on meat, the pancetta added at least twice its weight in flavour. The bite of the red pepper flakes cinched it for me. I hate bland—and this dish was anything but bland! Along with the Lemon Cream Tagliatelle with Pancetta and Arugula, I served fresh, warmed focaccia bread, topped with olive oil and garlic (Wes made that) and bruschetta (store bought). It was a delicious meal!

A week ago, I posted on my Facebook page that Chef Deb was trying to turn me into something I’m not—a cook—and I think the impossible may have happened. Or at least, it happened on Sunday night… and that truly, and unexpectedly, positive experience might just have given me the confidence to let it happen again.