Tuesday, July 28, 2009

Kitchen Disaster...

I have just sorted out my clean laundry pile. It took me FOUR hours. FOUR. With no distractions and no rest breaks. Yes, yes. The glamorous pace continues here at chez Nicholas.

Here is last night's dinner...
Looks lovely doesn't it?

Well. It wasn't.

Yesterday I was having one of those multiple disaster days. Thus spilling a glass of water led to putting the rescued glass on the corner of the table which led to it being knocked on the floor which (not surprisingly) led to shattered glass everywhere, which led to the dog being outside, which led to the dog eating alpaca poo from the spud patch, which led to the dog being sick... and so on

So when it came to cooking lasagna for dinner, I was unsurprised to find that we had no beef stock left - I substituted Vegemite in hot-water (not exactly gourmet, but I figured it'd do) - and no lasagna sheets left either - which led to a strange assortment of left-over pastas being used and dinner downgraded to a pasta bake.

THEN I got distracted by facebook (hi Wend and Liz, yay we're friends now - please, please do not tell my husband about all the men I slept with at CSU. K? thxbai). This led to the mince being cremated. But, undefeated, I scraped off the un-burntest bits and shoved them in with the pasta.

THEN it came time for the white sauce - no drama's there. Well not until I had a bright idea. You see I have this vile vile fish oil that Jessica the naturopath insists I eat for my omega threes. I went on strike because it is so utterly vile, and we have compromised - I now take the evil stuff in capsule form. At the time Jessica suggested that I use the leftover fish liquid in cooking, to held the kids with their omega threes.

So, as if burnt mince wasn't enough, I add a huge tablespoon of orange flavoured fish oil to the white sauce thinking the cheese/milk/whatever will cover it.

WRONG.

Oh so very wrong.

The best way to describe dinner last night was overcooked pasta with mince that first tasted a bit fake-orangy, then tasted very burnt, with a really really offensive lingering aftertaste of fish.

Yummy.

Hubby ate it.

sigh.

1 people love me:

rhiancahill said...

OMG woman!
If you don't write a book like Jess and I told you to you're not getting any of the champers we have at our lunch date this Christmas!