And by that, I mean I cooked real food. As in, a real menu.
As in: Beef Wellington.
Yes, I know it’s amazing. Believe me, no one is as amazed as me. Well, maybe John, who was rather pleased, and that, my friends, was the whole point.
After almost two weeks of phoning it in as a less than mediocre homemaker, I pulled out the pearls and <gasp> Martha Stewart (I will deny this tomorrow), and proceeded to have a rather lovely afternoon in the kitchen being creative in all kinds of new ways.
I could do this again.
In a very long time. That bottle of Clos du Bois from earlier this week was for me.
O.K. You didn’t tell me you made pastries! YUM!
yeah, well. you snooze, you lose. you’re the one that wanted meatloaf. BAHAHAHA!
and PS, thanks for my stash of it. eating yummy sandwiches now while John yells at the Falcons. (he always yells at the Falcons). Oh, and I guess you figured out I didn’t reset the alarm. I’m just glad I didn’t set it off 🙂