Cooking and I tend to be enemies, "frenimies" at the best of times. This week I think we took two steps backwards, whatever that would be called: perhaps that would make us "supenemies."
Last night I started preparing spinach lasagna, one of the Prince's favorites. I opened up the mushrooms only to find that they all were sporting a white beard just like the seven dwarfs. It is my own fault as they had been in the fridge for over a week, but still. This is a veggie lasagna and the mushroom act as the "meat." Of course I am also out of hamburger, pork, and only enough chicken for Sunday's dinner.
At the same time the Prince and I were preparing to be stuck in our snow castle at least until the upcoming storm had passed. Thus, I through up my hands and decided, we were just going to have to do without mushrooms.
Thirty to forty minutes later I was ready to put the mixture over my noodles only to find that I was out of my lasagna noodles. This NEVER happens. I'm pretty good about keeping two boxes of all the types of noodles I use a lot. I was so stinkin mad and had to cover the mixture and move onto a whole new meal.
Rice and veggies it is. Sounds simple. I even decided to use the frozen veggies. Too bad I burned them to a crisp.
The rices wasn't burnt too terribly bad so we had mozzarella rice and I microwaved some edamame.
By this point, me and dinner were through.
Fast forward to today and I was extra cautious and decided against multi-tasking so that I wouldn't burn tonight's dinner. I was halfway through and realized I didn't cook the dang chicken this afternoon. Seriously? If it weren't essential to I don't know... LIVE, I would so give up cooking from this day forward.