We were visiting with friends and making sandwiches with our left over chicken from the evening before. This would be great if I hadn't plopped a whole boneless chicken breast on a slice of bread, slapped some mayo over the top and covered it with another slice. Scott, being the perfect husband for me, ate it with nary a blink. People are still laughing about that one.
And there was the time we went to the Christmas boat parade in Huntington Harbor. We were strapped for time so I threw together a quick pizza to feed the girls. Lacking ingredients, but not creativity, I decided to try out something new on the family. Canned Vienna meat, jelly included, went on the pie evenly. Popped it in the oven and there you go. Yeah. That one didn't go over well either.
And how about Thanksgiving at the Pearson's. I read a sweet potato recipe incorrectly and our orange veggie dish was swimming in butter. I mean you couldn't even bring the pan to the table because it would slide out of your hands and slip across the surface and land in someone's lap. You couldn't talk because the culinary delight would slip down your chin. Seriously.
Never ask me for a recipe. It could be dangerous. Or worse, you could become an honorary Roderick.
No comments:
Post a Comment