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Thursday, July 7, 2011

If I can call it dinner . . .

I will start by making a promise that this will NEVER become a foodie blog. I don't want to bore all of you with that, and disgust you.

But last night's dinner was an odd one. Not that I had anything unusual to eat, but the way I felt about it. It was odd, maybe not odd for you, but odd for me.

Since I go to Knit Night on Wednesday nights, dinner is usually simple then, it tends to be one of those take-and-bake pizzas from the grocery store. But I had pizza for lunch yesterday, and while I like the stuff, I don't like it that much. Anything more than once a week is a little much for me. So, I picked up some Chicken patties (barf) and some pre-boxed fake-ass pasta side, (less barf, but still not my dinner of choice) and a bag of frozen corn. (Not the real stuff you buy two for a buck. And really, two for a buck, a little unreasonable.)This is not the sort of dinner that I relish making, there is little to season, so little creativity, all of it really just involves stirring and flipping (and me flipping) with a lot of setting timers.

But yet, I loved making it. It took me just long enough to cook it without getting tired of it. Everything turned out perfect, and the only down side was that it tasted like crap. Well, not like crap, more like breaded processed crap, creamy over-seasoned crap, and crap with butter.

But I had fun making it. And does anything else really count? (Yes!)

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