Kitchen nightmares

[Note: this post was meant to be published yesterday, but because of a surprise three and a half hour visit to the hospital last night, it was delayed… more on the hospital visit tomorrow]

Thank heavens my one-day-of-the-year cooking fiasco is over! There is a reason I am not a regular fixture in our kitchen day in and day out. It’s not because the rapid fire of F bombs exiting my mouth offends me, or because I’m too lazy to lift a ladle or saute onions, or because I’m a horrible cook. That’s not true at all, I’m actually quite decent at it when I put my mind to it. Nope, the reason I choose not to cook is because it’s a bloody marathon!

Seriously, four hours slaving over a hot stove (and that does not include the dessert aspect of the evening) left me so drained, achy and exhausted it was as though I’d just run 42.2 km. And who wants to do that every day? Not me, nope, no way.

But for the last three years, for some ungodly reason, I have set my cooking oppositions aside and have treated Big Ring to a Princess Perfect birthday feast. The first year it was an angel hair pasta and muscles dish complete with a menu written in Italian; the second year it was a Giada spaghetti recipe with clams, sundried tomatoes and arugula, plus homemade bread, no bread machine, and this year, Giada reigned again with her classic style lasagna – everything from scratch except the pasta noodles. One hour 15 minutes my ass!

When I’m in the kitchen, despite it being his birthday, Big Ring vanishes – and for good reason. I’m not a pretty sight, what with my non-stop glowers, and F bombs, and oh shits, and holy cruds, and near tears escapades. Food is flying, it’s in my hair, on my face, on my clothes, but surprisingly hardly ever on my apron, on the floor, sometimes even on the ceiling. And yet, year after year, he requests my made feasts over going out, says they’re more memorable. Indeed.

By this point, he didn’t care how it tasted, he just wanted food in his belly!

Truthfully, I think this dish could have done without the lasagna noodles. I know it’s lasagna, but the noodles were just kind of bland, whereas the tomato sauce was ohmygawd to die for, I kept sticking my fingers in to “test the seasoning” and licking them clean. Sooo yummy. I would have liked to have tried it with zucchini instead of pasta noodles, but Big Ring’s not so keen on zucchini, and it was his birthday after all, so I opted against it. Trying not to be selfish and all 😉


I also made a chocolate torte (thank god I did it the night before because otherwise we wouldn’t have eaten until at least 2 a.m. the next morning!) with chocolate ganache made with dark Belgian chocolate. Oh. My. God. I think I am in love. It was sooooooo tasty!

And you better believe with all that in my belly, I’ve been hitting the bike trainer and pavement a good amount the last few days. Most definitely needed.

5:15 p.m. BG before: 6.1 (granola bar, no bolus)
Temp. basal: -60 per cent
Distance: Just shy of 5 km
Time: There was drama
6:30 p.m. BG after: 5.6

7 thoughts on “Kitchen nightmares”

  1. “[Note: this post was meant to be published yesterday, but because of a surprise three and a half hour visit to the hospital last night, it was delayed… more on the hospital visit tomorrow]”

    nice cliffhanger princess. hope hubby didn’t bite a finger while you feed him the yummy dinner

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