I'm reading Julia Child's "My Life in France". In her book, she tells a story about making a dish using the wrong ingredients, but she serving it to her guests even though she describes it as "vile" and "horrid". What's amazing about this situation is she never apologizes. Here is her explaination:
I don't believe in twisting yourself into knots of excuses and explanations over the food you make. When one's hostess starts in with self-deprecations such as "Oh, I don't know how to cook...," or "Poor little me...," or "This may taste awful...," it is so dreadful to have to reassure her that everything is delicious and fine, whether it is or not. Besides, such admissions only draw attention to one's shortcomings (or self-perceived shortcomings), and make the other person think, "Yes, you're right, this really is an awful meal!" Maybe the cat has fallen into the stew, or the lettuce has frozen, or the cake has collapsed--eh bien, tant pis[oh well, it could be worse]!
Usually one's cooking is better than one thinks it is. And if the food is truly vile...then the cook must simply grit her teeth and bear it with a smile--and learn from her mistakes.
This is me, with a smile, not apologizing for long gaps between posts.
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