Once upon a time I fancied myself a gourmet cook. I put paper booties on my crown roasts and added white truffle oil to my grits. I stuffed every vegetable I could find, thinking it couldn’t possibly taste good on its own.
Mine was a simple case of “cooking to impress” to cover my inherent inadequacies in the kitchen. The sad truth is, my southern mother never taught me to cook because I made such a mess in the kitchen. Still do.
Determined not to return to the grocery store until I use up stuff that’s not paying rent to live at my house, I plundered through the freezer today.
I had six bags of frozen spinach , a bag of flash frozen chicken breasts, and some other stuff I couldn’t identify. A long time lover of spinach, I decided to improvise, or I could set the spinach outside and watch the raccoons run for the hills. I decided to cook it up.
There is nothing still in working order in my home. The central heat went out last month – good riddance. I no longer have to worry about hot flashes.
This morning after I got out of my bath, I heard gurgling in my kitchen sink – clear across the house.
I have a new idea for a reality show which will be about as interesting and entertaining as any other reality show I’ve seen lately on the “boob” tube.
(Side note: Isn’t it ironic that once upon a time, we called the television the “Boob Tube,” never dreaming that by the 21st century, boobs would become the central focus of programming – and for general audiences no less!)
Was it Thomas Paine who said, “These are the times that try men’s souls?”
So what if he was talking about the American Revolution. We’ve got some pretty trying times right here in the 21st century. As the US economy teetered on the brink of disaster, my friends and I had a plan (unlike anyone in Washington). Continue reading