You know, I wonder if sordid people REALLY are more interesting than normal people.
So here is a slice from our sordid lives, and you can be the judge. My step-son is here, and he and his father have been “working” hard out by the pool, and by the TV all day, after they went to the store and Lowe’s this morning. I walked around Bravo Lake this morning with my friend Sally, and I accidentally went to a birthday party a day early, this evening. In my defense, at least I was late, and I went with no present, not dressing up, and horrible hair. And that is why dinner is late. I have to maintain my sordid reputation, after all.
Sally and Mike Pace provided most of our evening meal – potatoes that she said were no good unless they were cooked right away. I’ve had them at least a month, and they were delicious. (I didn’t tell the boys my little secret about them being too old to cook.) Vince earned the hamburger by helping her with her brand new computer that got polluted by a virus when it was less than a week old. We were excited to see a package of Lonesome the Cow as a payment. So thank you Sally and Mike for dinner
Sorry the picture of the dinner is so sordid. I cropped and resized a small image off a cell phone. The meatloaf got scarfed down in a second. It was easy to make.
Ingredients: hamburger from Lonesome the Cow, Vince’s famous pasta sauce, 3 big scoops full, a dribble of milk, an organic egg, about 1/2 cup or so of Italian bread crumbs, oregano, salt and pepper. I mixed all that in a large bowl, and flattened it on a piece of freezer paper.
Next I covered the flattened loaf with fresh spinach, caramelized onions and garlic that I had cooled and forgotten to add to the meat, and mozzarella cheese. I rolled up the loaf as best I could, but it was falling apart as I rolled. I smooshed it all together and made it look like a roll – some of the spinach pieces and slices of cheese peeked out from every angle, but I just patted it until the hamburger was the most obvious ingredient. Finally I maneuvered it into the fancy meat loaf pan with a little shelf full of holes for the grease to drain through. It was a present from Vince. (Hint???) You can see that, in spite of my errors, it turned out beautiful enough to eat. Did I mention that we were all starving?
The potatoes were just as easy. Vince’s Aunt Nene taught me this simple potato recipe. I used tiny red potatoes, cut in half and baked in olive oil with fresh basil from the garden sprinkled on top, and a dash of salt and pepper. Thirty minutes later – yum. The eggplant from the garden, not shown here, is still baking.
I mean REALLY, could normal people have a more interesting life than us sordid types?