A Grain That Is Not so Plain

The kasha smelled like old dirt with black coal dust and moth balls when I cooked it. I really, really, really did not want to put it in my mouth. I added what ingredients I could find in the house from a recipe I found -- all I had were about half the ingredients -- tamari sauce, basil, carrots, garlic and cayenne pepper. I didn't have tahini, onions, or celery. Well, I had some tahini, but I am pretty sure it has outlived its shelf life. I also added frozen peas, black beans and lemon juice, which were not in the recipe. The smell reminded me of a mysterious old smell of faintly remembered concoctions from my grandmother's "experimental" kitchen. I never could pinpoint what that awful smell was at her house -- it was mostly the smell of moth balls, I suppose. Maybe I have finally discovered the awful smell that lurked there -- cooked kasha.
I gave the kasha plenty of time to cool off. I was sorry that so much food would have to go to waste. I put a little on the fork. I put it up to my mouth. I put it down again. I put it back up again. It actually did not taste as bad as it smelled. I did taste a slight flavor of moth balls, though. Oh, what will I do with a whole five-pound sack of kasha?