Monday, September 22, 2008

Grand plans laid to waste

Okay, a little over dramatic. I was going to write about the frittata I had made.

It went like this:
What is a “frittata”?

Well, the word “fri” comes from our word “Friday” which everyone knows really means “free day” or day of freedom and since the 4th of July has been known to fall on Friday this means that not only should you be very free with this recipe, but it may also be your patriotic duty to be free with this recipe.

The word “tata” is another word for boobs, which are also known as “jugs” which are containers that are known to hold all kinds of stuff in them.

Therefore a frittata is a casserole where you are free to put whatever you want into it.

Thus ends our brief lesson about the etymology of the frittata.

But the frittata turned out to be a bit of a disaster. I need to play with the recipe a bit.

But something also rather strange happened with the bread I baked and with the potatoes I roasted the other day. I hesitate to say, in case reality warps in order to bring this into being, but my oven may be *erk* on the fritz. When you turn the oven to 200* C (400 F for those who care) you should not be able to comfortably stick your arm in there for any length of time. I mean, that's hot, right?

I'm not sure how to test this because my meat thermometer only goes up to 100 C. I suppose I could set it for 100...

I'll think about doing that later.

Meanwhile, I now know why people swear by their bread machines. Gah, the bread I made included the instruction: stir the dough, adding more flour, to form a firm dough. Eventually I had to just take off my rings and dive in with one hand while the other kept shoveling flour into the mess. Sticky sticky dough.

Which would then not come out of the bowl or off the scrubby I used to clean the bowl or my poor encrusted hand.

It tastes pretty good. But I added caraway seeds as per instructions and turns out neither the DB nor I like caraway all that much. Oh well. I only made FOUR loaves.

Which will last about 4 days.

Gad, with only the two of us, you'd think the food would last longer. I got $20 to get us through this week. It looks like cabbage soup and pasta and pesto for the next 7 days.

Today is also chore day. I hate chores. I would much rather clean when I should be doing something else, cleaning is how I procrastinate. So what do I do when I'm procrastinating the procrastinating?

Write blog posts, obviously.

But I don't wanna wash the floor. Or take out the trash. Or go to recycling.

I also do not want to go shopping for milk and spaghetti. And I certainly do not want to chop up 6 cups of cabbage for the soup tonight.

I do not want to go to the other apartment and try to pack stuff and move stuff.


I think I do want to hold a pity-me party and sip cognac while in my pjs and watch Dirty Jobs on Discovery.

I don't think I have a choice however.

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Keep it clean, don't be mean....