There’s a storm coming…
GRIN # 212
I’m starting to figure out that about every five to six weeks, dinner at my house is going to be a grotesque disaster. The irony is the disaster never strikes when I think it will. On those nights when I”m trying something new and thrown-together, it usually turns out okay and sometimes really wonderful. The storm usually comes when I think I’ve got it figured out.
The other night was a great example. I had filet mignon in the fridge, asparagus in the freezer and potatoes. That would be a great meal.
Yeah. About that: I learned that I probably shouldn’t buy filet mignon in a blister pack. You know, where four bacon-wrapped hockey pucks are vacuum-packed on a plastic sheet for $5.99? As Jerry put it, those filets tasted like “Buffalo dong.”
“You mean ‘buffalo DUNG,’ I said, laughing.
“No. I mean Buffalo dong. This is disgusting.”
And asparagus, apparently, shouldn’t be frozen fresh. I don’t know what happened but those spears swelled up to look like a platter of mighty fine green bratwurst. Tyler kept calling them “wet” and while he was kind enough to try one, I caught him throwing away his chubby veggies when he thought I wasn’t looking.
But some nights are like this, no? I ended up having Carb Lovers’ Delight for dinner–baked potato (those turned out fine!), easy mac and two ice cream bars. Jerry stared forlornly at me as I left to take Tyler to soccer practice.
“What am I going to have?” Jerry asked.
“I have lunch meat every day.”
“Hmm. I can’t help you. I have to go.”
For me, dinner was over. Good or bad, it was finished. Move on.
As I was leaving I saw my neighbor and described our hideous meal. As it happens I was taking her son to practice with us too. She had much more pity on Jerry than I. She brought him over a leftover sausage and egg fritatta–his shelter from the storm.