Skip to main content

We're Cookin' Now!

I saw this recipe in a magazine a few weeks back, and haven’t been able to get it out of my mind.



They’re like Meatloaf Cupcakes. Well, when I put it that way, it’s downright unappetizing. But put it in your own appetizing way, and you too won’t be able to get them out of your minds.

So, as with most things in my life, I had to wait for the overwhelming urge before I’ll stop thinking about what I want to do, and just go do it. (Hmm. Explains my relatively sudden exit from Alberta. Go figure.) Tonight was the night. I hauled my flat butt (flat from sitting on a couch for days on end) to the grocery store armed with my shopping list and picked up what I would need for Carnivore Cupcakes. Hey – that’s what I’m going to call them!

So here is the Before:



Lest you be unable to believe your own eyes, here is the evidence that I put the Before together with my own two hands.



Literally. Mmmm, mushing meatloaf ingredients between my fingers to combine. Followed later by a scalding hot hand wash because I have a thing about touching raw meat. (I have a rather vivid sensory memory of a Shake N’ Bake misunderstanding while I was in university. Seriously, man. When your directions say “Toss chicken in Shake N’Bake. Put unused Shake N’Bake in fridge to use later” I am going to dump all the Sn’B in a bag, toss my chicken in, shake off the chicken to cook it, then put the bag o’ Sn’B in the fridge. To continue using over the course of the next week. Ask Public Health. They have a file on me and the visitors I had in the lower regions of my digestive system that memorable April. Wait ... what was I saying? Oh, yeah. Scalding hot hand wash) Which is why these dishes are waiting in the sink patiently for the water I was boiling at that moment to drench them before washing them with scalding hot water.

This, is After:


And here is dinner:



Yay me.

(... if you don’t hear from me in a few days, call Public Health ... )

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

A Picture Puzzler

A friend sent me another picture from the wrap party. As I looked at it, and recalled the good times, I was struck by something really unusual. See if you can spot it: I'll give you all some time to guess...

And they called me mad when I bought the bunker in the woods!

I had heard that one way of thwarting telemarketers was to make them think the number they have dialed is in fact a fax machine.  I've tried different tones on my cordless phone, all to no avail.  Then I had an epiphany: When I turned sixteen, my sister bought me a new-fangled telephone.  It had push buttons, but it was still just a rotary phone - when you pressed each button to dial, you still heard the rotary "tat-a-tat-tat-tat" with every number.  I had held onto this phone ever since.  It's cute.  It works.  There was no reason to get rid of it. I was willing to bet that, in this day and age of advanced technology rendering yesterday's device obsolete on a daily basis, a telemarketer - who is likely going to be decades younger than my phone - would be unable to even identify a rotary phone by sight much less by sound. And voila!  Answering the phone with my rotary phone, and constantly pressing the buttons, the telemarketer kept repeating "Hello?

Batten down the hatches -- we're in it for the long haul!

Given that the weather reports for Edmonton this weekend are grim grim grim (lows of minus 33, highs of minus 25 -- with wind chills of around minus 35 to 40), I woke up early this morning to get all errands for the weekend out of the way in one fell swoop. I barely needed a coat this morning as I headed out to my car to embark on my mission. With each passing hour, the thermometer dipped a degree or twelve. By time I was done driving around (and paused to catch a movie at the neighbourhood googolplex), it was chill-lay outside. I am now snuggly boarded up in my apartment, with no plans to so much as peek my nose out my window until Tuesday (when the temps shall return to a balmy minus 15). Groceries? Check. Toiletries? Check. Magazines to curl up with? Check. Christmas Presents? Check. Lessee, I got my father what he's been asking for since I was old enough for him to give me his Christmas wish list: And I think my mother will enjoy her bungalow by the stream: For my sister and he