A couple of months ago, I fed my husband some dirt. Literally. I decided to venture out and put clams into the soondubu jjigae instead of meat. Well, I've never dealt with clams before, so I had no idea how dirty they were. So I just quickly washed them in water, and then plopped them into the boiling water. As I tasted it later on, I noticed a kind of murkiness to the soup, but I couldn't quite place it. I just thought, "crazy seafood."

Then when the moment came to serve dinner, I had him sit down and wait for me to present the jjigae, as I always do. I like how the restaurants serve them, straight from the kitchen and still bubbling. As I eagerly awaited his reaction, I noticed that his eyebrows furrowed slightly. It wasn't exactly the response I wanted.

"Is it good?" I ventured.

"Mm..," he mumbled, with a subdued smile and a raise of the eyebrow. "It's pretty good."

He took a couple of more bites, but chewed very slowly. By this time, I knew something was up.

"Just tell me. What's wrong with it?"

"Well," Danny said hesitantly, "it tastes dirty."

"What!?! Let me see." I took a spoonful, and sure enough, that murkiness I had witnessed while it was stil on the stove was indeed, dirt. It was the most embarrassing moment of my cooking career. I had served dirt. There. I admit it. I served dirt to my husband.