Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Burial - Miike Snow



My dinner.
(No, not the naked man, Gutterminds).

With an assortment of frozen vegetables crowding my freezer (an inheritance from an ex boyfriend) and no place to put them . . . I resorted to storing them in our back yard, like buried treasure. Symbolic of the failed relationship in many ways. As I dug the hole in the snow with my bare hands, I asked myself for the umpteenth time why the passive aggressive neighbors hate my roommate and I so much.

At that moment, I swore that once a week, I would attempt to make a new dish with the frozen provisions until I finished them off and the backyard was empty.



Now while a naked man with a cute butt can encourage me to do most things short of highway robbery, this dish was particularly enticing because of the mascarpone. (If you were to smother an old tire in a cheese casserole I would definitely attempt to saw into it with a knife and fork). Because if Gino can cook this dish naked on national television by George, I can attempt to cook it clothed in my kitchen. All it all, it was fairly tasty. I did however substitute the the gammon for chicken breast . . . which I then overcooked. Ta-da! Dinner was served. I lurve British television.

1 comment:

L.R. said...

You are hilarious and I looooove your cutlery!!!