Culinary Notes

Last night around 5 p.m., I asked A. if he was hungry, meaning should I start making hamburgers from the ground beef I had taken out to thaw.  He said no, not really, because he had eaten at the Chinese buffet for lunch.  I wasn't hungry either, so I decided to just make Cubby a couple of eggs for his dinner, figuring A. and I would forage later for our dinners if we wanted to.

Here's what we ended up having for dinner individually:

Cubby ate his two eggs, plus some leftover balsamic-glazed parsnips, leftover brussels sprouts, milk, and applesauce.

A., despite his assertion that he wasn't really hungry, began preparing his dinner while Cubby was eating his odd collection of foods.  A. made two hamburger patties, between which he sandwiched slices of Brie cheese.  This, in turn, was topped with a fried egg, and that whole mess was finished off with ketchup and mayonnaise. He christened this incredible concoction "The Tower of Power."

The very thought of it made me want to throw up.  I may have been rude enough to actually say that out loud, which fazed A. not in the least.

After Cubby went to bed, I made myself a sandwich with sharp cheddar cheese, mayonnaise, and Dilly Beans. A., in what was undoubtedly fair play on his part, told me that that made him want to throw up.  He seemed particularly disturbed at the pairing of cheese and mayonnaise.  Is it really that weird to put mayonnaise on a cheese sandwich?  I always do.

And, on a completely unrelated note, the leftover sugar syrup from a jar of canned pears when mixed with seltzer tastes amazingly like cream soda.  I have no idea why that would be, but there you are.