I don't cook. Or, more correctly, I don't cook much. I have my small repertoire of things I make including a few entrees, and some sides and appetizers.
So, cold and dog-tired, I go home last night and ... cook. (This had been planned for. Thought it would be a good night to crank up the oven as it was about 21 degrees when I got home.)
When I was a kid, the mother got this recipe for a mock spinach souffle. (Why is it a mock? I'm guessing maybe because it doesn't have a real crust. But I don't know. That's how much I cook!) Anyway, the recipe called for spinach, something I didn’t like as a kid and never really have. Being resourceful, the mother substituted broccoli, which I’ve always loved, and a long-standing dish at This D*mn House was born.
So I made a batch of blueberry muffins and then got busy with the soufflé. Yes, that's right. I spent an evening in the kitchen. Write this down. Except for Thanksgiving (which is one of my other specialties) you will NOT find me in there. Unless it's to paint, put up wall paper, etc.
That said, I didn't even log on last night. I was too tired by the time I got done cooking and then cleaning it all up and putting everything back. I even ended up napping briefly after dinner.
The good news is that tonight will be leftovers. And, I'm not doing ANYTHING else. Well, maybe ordering some stuff online for the mother. (And I have no idea what it is. God help me.)