It's Not Even That Big of A Deal
Buffalo chicken is my be all, end all, apparently.
In hushed, reverent tones: I could eat anything with buffalo sauce on it.
So, it really isn't that big of a deal that I finally made this soup tonight, but I need someone to tell me it is. As much as food is the seeming epicenter of my life, when I'm only responsible for my lonesome, I most often end up roughing it on spinach and Berry Colossal Crunch come dinnertime. Or...(sigh)...mellocreme pumpkins.
Meal-planning isn't even that hard, especially when it's for one. [But heaven help my future family!] And in the case of right now, I'll buy all my groceries and let them sit around being bored for two weeks. "I'm going to make SOUP!" I remind myself triumphantly. "Probably tomorrrow, maybe though." And then we go and have church functions four days in a row at which dinner is provided. Then, at the end of the week, we go out to eat three days in a row and I come home with buffalo chicken sandwich leftovers and half of a lamb calzone the size of my head.
"When will I find time to eat all my food?" I ask in a fit of self-entitled first-world privileged status.
"I simply have TOO MUCH!"
So. After talking about it repeatedly for two weeks to anyone and anything that would listen, I finally made my flinging-flanging soup.
And it did not disappoint.
Now, if someone could please give me a dinner trophy?
In hushed, reverent tones: I could eat anything with buffalo sauce on it.
So, it really isn't that big of a deal that I finally made this soup tonight, but I need someone to tell me it is. As much as food is the seeming epicenter of my life, when I'm only responsible for my lonesome, I most often end up roughing it on spinach and Berry Colossal Crunch come dinnertime. Or...(sigh)...mellocreme pumpkins.
Meal-planning isn't even that hard, especially when it's for one. [But heaven help my future family!] And in the case of right now, I'll buy all my groceries and let them sit around being bored for two weeks. "I'm going to make SOUP!" I remind myself triumphantly. "Probably tomorrrow, maybe though." And then we go and have church functions four days in a row at which dinner is provided. Then, at the end of the week, we go out to eat three days in a row and I come home with buffalo chicken sandwich leftovers and half of a lamb calzone the size of my head.
"When will I find time to eat all my food?" I ask in a fit of self-entitled first-world privileged status.
"I simply have TOO MUCH!"
So. After talking about it repeatedly for two weeks to anyone and anything that would listen, I finally made my flinging-flanging soup.
And it did not disappoint.
Now, if someone could please give me a dinner trophy?
Sounds yummy!
ReplyDeleteUm, I must say, I'm a pretty good cook. But in college I lived off of stoffer's frozen dinners and cereal. Then I got married and I was like, ugh, I have to cook for this person now. We lived off hamburger helper and marinated grilled chicken on the foreman grill. And then went I ventured to make something I had to call mom to ask things like, what is a #2 can of pineapples? Now, after 5.5 years I can pick up pretty much any recipe and make it. It took a lot of burning and messing things up to learn how to cook right. And if Brandon isn't home I'm like, we're having chicken nuggets and cereal! I have to have another adult to cook for or it doesn't happen.
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