Life is not perfect. Being a very detailed person, I work overtime trying to make everything just right, especially when “Company’s Coming!” Of late, I have experienced some cooking casualties…the sweet potatoes not quite baked long enough, the meat a bit OVER cooked. It seems I have to google often for oven temperatures and cooking times…. having entered an intense time of deciding to become a gourmet chef, constantly making up recipes, trying new things and testing all this on my victim, Grumblies, aka hub side-kick, a man of simple tastes not prone to Polish cooking, heavy sour cream sauces, dill, poppy seed, did I mention pickled herring?
He has been studying me now for 9 years and has caught on to some of my methods. Usually, most of the time, I can get my way, HOWEVER he always remembers my process and he NEVER forgets. AND he hears #1daughterconnie and #2toodaughterbillie sometimes laughing and boasting how mom has always taught them how to be smarter then who you’re dealing with!
I can’t believe how he fast talked me regarding last night’s dinner party. I swear he rehearsed in front of the mirror. It started the other day, on the way home from golf, he just happened to stop at the grocery store and picked up 4 steaks to grill (I am not allowed near HIS grill). That was nice of him……
Two days later, we grocery shop and he’s dancing around the cart and sez…”Honey! It’s going to be sooo hot (105 heat index) why don’t we buy these huge twice baked stuffed potatoes that you can reheat in the oven only 25 mins. and save you all that work in the kitchen and you won’t have all those pots and pans to wash….and wouldn’t it be nice for you just to get to visit with our friends? AND you can fix a salad, a SMALL salad and don’t add those damn shredded carrots, I HATE shredded carrots, and you can just visit……won’t that be nice for you?”
Uh huh.
Then Mr. Diabetes corners me in the bakery section and looks adoringly at me saying how much work he’ll save me, “Let’s just buy an ice cream SMALL cake, it will be done and you can just VISIT.” I was trapped there, Italian bread on my left, gouda cheese behind me….every size of Depends on my right.
Sounds like a plan. He had every detail worked out. Unfortunately…………. he was not smarter then who he was dealing with.
We timed everything. Perfection at it’s best. Time to grill. Hmm…..where did I put those steaks? Oops. Still in the packages…..frozen.
