A strange twist
occurred while recounting this past Sunday’s dinner, and it wasn’t until M1 drew it to my attention: Our bake of the week was mega-dosed with starch! Now, before I go forward, I have to admit something:
I learned, in a ninth-grade home economics class, that no meal should contain copious amounts of starch. You know, things like: don’t put peas with potatoes, rice, or noodles. If you do, Betty Crocker will visit and remind you that she is not a figment of someones imagination, she’s real, and she’ll crack a whip and banish you from that room called, kitchen.
Okay, a little history here. I was raised in a large family. The two men foraged for wild game, occasionally, and when they arrived home with their spoils it was up to the women folk to prepare (and disguise), the proceeds. To this day if i enter a restaurant and someone shows me a menu with, x, y or z (wild game cards), I instantly fall to the floor and pull the table over my head.
It’s not the rifle shot that spooks me, it’s that next meal plan that does me in!
Yes, I thought of Bambi, often, but I mentioned that baby only once.
It is not wise to bite the hand that feeds.
Where was I going with this?
Oh yes, so, when that home economics class was offered, I took it! What better way to learn wild game disguises than from a master of all things, cookie and cake battered. Between, Betty and Better Homes & Gardens, I pegged myself almost successful.
Ever so mindful of how I might surprise and amaze the masses with a tender, and succulent dish, and knowing that it would never happen, I opted to balance the remainder of the plate with the most careful diligence. It was necessary. The six children in the family depended upon each other. If one wouldn’t eat it, you can sure bet the other five were going to prove that they would! It is not good to be the lone wolf, ever.
clueless and wanting, I set about to master this weeks recipe. I negotiated the cookbook, alrighty, but failed to note the balance between the resources. Let’s just say that if this weeks fare were a pair of blue jeans, they’d be standing on their own. Starch, magnified, and although the dish was tasty, it left me feeling starved two hours later, and at about that time, M1, called to report she was ready to write-up her experience for, Blazing Burners.
I had hopes of getting M2’s input on this weeks baking of, Blazing Burners, but the winds blew fierce and storms threatened. Instead, I pushed her out the doorway of one home, and into the safety of another. She made it back to campus, wind-blown and minus a meal, but out of harms way.
It’s just as well. She would have found herself rummaging through the fridge and cabinets for something to munch upon, and with shopping delegated to Monday’s, things can be a little dicey by Sunday’s eve.
You can view the photo-ops from this weeks challenge and read our adventures if you click over to that other site. Be forewarned. I hadn’t a clue I was shy a few bits of protein and snacking on a tad bit more starch than was necessary, but there is justice. I didn’t have to do any disguising.