Oh, dear. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom has been a bit preoccupied this week. Not only did she eat a moldering hot dog at lunch on Wednesday, but she found herself involved in another foody faux pas this evening.
I wanted a meal of soft tacos from Taco Bell. However, once the spoils were ill-gotten from the drive-thru, handed over by a giggling lass who might or might not have done something unspeakable to my order...I remembered that it's Friday. The day Taco Bell makes their tacos with 94.995% shredded lettuce, 4% tortilla, 1% cheese, and 0.005% meaty-looking-worm-protein. So I limited myself to two soft tacos.
That was not enough protein. Mrs. Hillbilly Mom demands balance in her nutrition. So I popped open a tin of sardines in mustard sauce. They're bursting with protein. And calcium, too, from those little bones that crunch between your teeth. When getting a jar of salsa out of Frig II to add to my lettuce tacos, I spied a sad salad purchased at The Devil's Playground mid-week. Darn that Frig II. He has different crannies than the original Frig. I had forgotten all about that chef salad dated 2/13/15. Which was TODAY. So I added that to my menu, taking credit for buying my own big salad. I tossed in some chopped onion that I was adding to my soft tacos. I don't know why I don't just buy tortillas and make them myself. Yes I do. Because that is too much work on a Friday evening after a very trying week at Newmentia.
I shook on some ranch dressing, part from a bottle of lite, part from the real thing. Then crumbled some croutons on top. Good to go. I alternated among my three courses. They were nothing to write home about, nothing to pitch a show about to the Food Network. But filling. In fact, as I was stabbing away at my big salad, I realized that I would not be able to eat the whole thing. A realization that came, in part, when my fork stopped short and nearly dislocated my wrist.
Did you know that The Devil puts his tubs of Marketplace All Natural Buttermilk Ranch Dressing down inside the big salad, to make it look bigger? Uh huh. It's true. I knew that. But in my haste to augment my other two courses, I forgot to root around in there and take out the tub. It did, after all, take up a fourth of the room in the salad tray.
One of these days, Mrs. Hillbilly Mom is going to cook from scratch. Until then, she will have plenty of blog material.
2 comments:
Oh, when you retire, I'm sure you'll start cooking up a storm. Home-cooked meals for your husband every evening. Gourmet delights all the time.
I imagine you will cook your way through Julia Child's cookbook. Oh, wait...isn't your husband going to retire around the same time as you? Perhaps you two would enjoy taking a cooking class together?
What would your husband most like to learn how to cook?
Sioux,
I am sure he would like to know how to make soup without the juice. And deer jerky, providing a depressed deer would run up on the porch and butcher itself for his convenience. He waxes poetic on the night he had prime rib at the office Christmas dinner. And I'm pretty sure he would like to invent new ways to dress a hot dog.
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