Today was one of those real life days. Everyone is sick. The baby. The boys. The mommy. Daddy probably too, but he's away on a business trip. The story I'm telling myself is he is having the most amazing time eating civilized meals and sleeping through the night.
But my reality is sick kiddos. So I made some stew and some baby food, hoping to feel better and enjoy some comfort food. I aspire to have stew be one of those things I can just make, without looking the way my mom does it. Just whip out a delicious, one pot stew like no big deal. But I need to do some serious reps in the kitchen before I get there.
So there I was making lamb stew, the kind with wine mixed into the beef broth base, because Google apparently thinks I'm a lush and I don't just make it, I Google recipes and make sure to reject at least one choice before settling on a recipe.. I was cutting and chopping and sautéing until I was just burning. Burning the bacon. And wouldn't you know it, my smart fire alarms ratted me and my burnt bacon bits out to my husband a 1000 miles away.
"Some burnt food?"
Rodger. Thanks, Nestie.
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