Hello again, I am early tonight, in the sense that I don’t have anything left on this evening’s agenda – so I decided to drop by here. Two other occurrences were conducive to some bloggage, the first being my dinner. Not microwaved, but still nothing I had to “cook” by any stretch of the imagination, but still a meal I had been looking forward to for the bulk of the day.

& that was, a serving of Michelangelo’s eggplant parmigiana, and a side of Mc Dougals’s Minestrone soup. The former I simply threw in the oven for an hour, and the latter needed only a cup of boiling water, a stir, and 10 minutes to steep. The parmigiana came in a plastic container, which claims to be oven safe, but it filled the kitchen with a burnt plastic funk that was rather unsettling, and yet again, I regretted not just throwing the bitch in the nukie – selah.

The second aspect of the evening that recalled me to the blog was a snip of a conversation I had with my father regarding our respective cooking practices. See, it is not just myself who has abandoned the art of making food. My father has as well, not for entirely the same reasons as myself, but similar. Conservation is a major theme in this home, so while I do not cook for fear of making a mess, and then being left without knowing how to clean it up without using water or paper towels, or whatever, my father has surrendered due to not being allowed to buy groceries, as frivolous shopping is also, apparently, wasteful.

& I do not mean to go on moaning about love and loss and living in a post-divorce family – but I would like to say that my biological mother did always have a certain amount of tolerance for my father & I’s eccentricities in the kitchen. Likely due to the fact that in the end we did always clean up our disasters, and the food that was a product of them was 90% really good to eat…

But this is a new world now, and we have not yet adapted. This is no one’s fault pre-se, but I do eagerly await the day that I might make a curry with abandon – I’m gonna get some on the floor even!


One thought on “Twist

  1. Pepper says:

    Well, well, well… what do you expect? Cooking plastic! You’ve really taken it to a whole other level here. I think the gimmicks gone from:
    “Building my dream kitchen in lieu of having one and microwaving in the meantime.”
    “Microwaving my pain away and hopefully radiating the microwaves eeevil owner simultaneously.”
    “Help! I’ve microwaved my brain! This plastic tastes like Parmigiana!?!”

    As for going on about love and loss from the perspective of a post-divorce family: DON’T GET ME STARTED! I miss your real momma too and the waffles and the messes that we all make now and forever and even the milk that tasted so good from your fridge even if I did get in trouble for drinking it. *gasp*

    Let me say, at risk of having my cyber-head bit off, that you are ALWAYS welcome in my kitchen… with or without MU who may or may not be capable of existing for a fortnight without you. That said, keep in mind that my kitchen, while fully operable and equipped with the latest and greatest in gourmand appliances (although that is a personal approximation and one that I cannot compare to anything because, while I have looked for and hoped to find a trustworthy kitchen supply blog that would clearly explain to me the necessities, pros and cons of each and every medieval looking contraption we call appliances, I have yet to find such a blog!)
    um, where did that come from?
    Where was I?
    Oh, yes: you are quite welcome in my kitchen. It just so happens that my kitchen is in the middle of the Australian outback, and therefore, not readily accessible to anyone in their right mind.

    If you happen to be in any other sort of mind, other than the right, well, then I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon!

    Ta da!

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