Wednesday, September 12, 2012

Hell's Kitchen

Perfect Polly and her family enjoyed dinner tonight at my house.  It was my idea, my treat.

I'm still not able to walk without pain but I wasn't about to hobble around Polly and have to explain to her how I injured myself.

I picked out a great recipe from a book.  Yes, I went through an actual cookbook like people who know what they are doing do.  I got dinner going and then the doorbell rang.

It was Polly.  Right on time per usual.  She's annoyingly punctual.

I took everyone's coats and showed them to my living room where I poured the adults a little bit of wine and asked all about their trip.  The conversation went on for quite some time.

Finally, my brother-in-law, Jeremy said, "Will we be eating soon?  I smell something."

He smelt something?  I ran as fast as I am able to the kitchen.  I had forgotten all about the dinner I was cooking.   Something was burning.  I searched frantically for a pot holder.  I had no idea where I kept them if I even own one.  One had to be here somewhere.

Finally, I found one and pulled the meat out of the oven.  It was charred black, burnt so badly I couldn't even get the knife through it.  The potatoes I was boiling for mash potatoes had the consistancy of water and the vegetables had stuck to the pan.  Something had boiled over onto my stove top and dripped on the floor.  Dinner was ruined.  My heart sank.

What was I going to do?  Slowly, I walked to the phone and called for pizza.  What was I going to tell Polly?

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