The September challenge is going swimmingly. If you want God to laugh, tell him your plans.
The meatballs turned into a pink slime disaster. Anyone with half a brain should know not to try to chop up sausage meat with a food processor. Even a pulse or two is a very bad idea. It is the stupidest cooking mistake I’ve ever made. The meatballs didn’t look bad, especially since the majority of the meat was not pink slime. But the texture was awful.
My hand is still bruised by trying to hack at the spaghetti squash with a dull chef’s knife. I roasted it for fifty minutes and it was alternatively slimy and crunchy. I think reheated and smothered with sauce, it may have some redeeming value. But it was quite a sad dinner.
The next morning, the frittata didn’t turn out much better. Cooking in the pan, it smell and looked great. It had a base of leftover home fries with plenty of spinach, mushrooms, roasted red peppers, and feta cheese. There were six eggs beaten with a few tablespoons of milk. It looked cooked and even a tad overdone, puffed and golden, but when I flipped it onto the cutting board, it bled yellow over the counter and onto the floor.
I bought a green curry for lunch. I know it is shameful and weak-willed, but I do allot myself to eat out once a week. I had a leftover piece of foccacia (pizza dough drizzled with olive oil, salt, and rosemary) and a pluot for dinner.
I am writing this down in hopes that it provides comedic value to someone. The weekend was not one of my culinary achievements.