Hot dogs, baked beans, cheesy weezies
BLTs, Pringles, Banana splits
Birthday at the Fishers’ house! Cake at some later point. Jeff Miller used to do this “test your detachment” thing on Fridays in Lent. Here’s my contribution, with five pounds of bacon:
Imagine your suffering if I had a better camera, you backsliding reprobate.
We also had banana splits. Corrie’s was served pre-deconstructed, which pleased her majesty:
I last made chicken pies maybe eight years ago, and nobody liked them. I thought it was time to try again, so I went with the most bourgeois version I could think of. No leeks or fennel or white wine involved to challenge anyone’s palate. I also made a lot of Mr. Tweedy jokes, just to prime the pump and make everyone feel jolly about the meal to come.
In chicken broth, I cooked chicken breast, carrots, potatoes, peas, mushrooms, celery, and onions. The sauce was a plain white sauce (flour, butter and milk) seasoned with two envelopes of onion soup mix. And I made it in store-bought pie shells. Here’s what they looked like before I put the top crust on. VERY NORMAL, right?
The family deemed them . . . okay.
I thought they were delicious. They tasted exactly like they ought to taste. Now my only problem is, where am I going to find a new family? HA.
French toast casserole, Sausages
Everybody was ridiculously happy about this meal in the aftermath of the immense suffering of homemade chicken pies yesterday. Here is my lovely bread-tearing assistant, hard at work:
I also served one of the leftover chicken pies, because I am mean.
They were also really excited about this meal, not sure why. Ziti from a box, sauce from a jar, limited cheese requiring the oversight of the teenage cheese police.
Oh, so I have this colander problem. Our old colander is a standard size, which means that whenever I made enough pasta for our family, I have to do it in batches, or else some of it ends up slithering out into the sink, which is always gross, because Fly Lady can go suck an egg. (Actually, Fly Lady seems so quaint and reasonable now, doesn’t she? All the cleaning experts currently in vogue are all, “Do you really need a front door? Does it spark joy? Consider achieving inner peace by dispensing with your floorboards, and just skipping lightly from joist to joist. Japanese mothers have been doing this for years, and they glow!”)
So I tried for a while, but I discovered that it’s hard to find out exactly what sizes colanders come in; so I bought what seemed like a reasonable step up: 16 quarts.
Thanks a lot, common core. The thing is, of course, big enough to bathe a calf in — or I guess strain a calf, anyway. It doesn’t fit in my sink. I’m an idiot. Now I just have to pack it back up and return it and buy a smaller one, which I will definitely do right away.
You know what, how about one of you cleaning experts come over here and do it for me, with all your free time and serenity.
Pork carnitas, Avocados
I made carnitas once before, and they weren’t great, so a bunch of people suggested yummier, more authentic recipes. I ignored all of these and went to allrecipes.com. It actually turned out pretty great — although I doubled the meat and quadrupled all the seasoning. The flavor was mild but pleasant.
One quibble: Preheat oven to 400, simmer the meat on the stove top for 2.5 hours, then put the meat in the oven? Something ain’t right there. I’ll get back to you when I put my finger on it. I’m not feeling great. Why is it so hot in here? Ugh, I must be getting a fever.
Quesadillas, Tomato soup, spinach salad, tortilla chips
Pretty good for a Friday!
What’s slithering around in the sink at your house? Anything good?