Short version: Bunless cheeseburgers, garlic bread, green salad
Long version: The salad was MY LETTUCE, HOORAY.
I am not getting any less enthused about my lettuce, no. And I don't expect I ever will.
Short version: Fajitas, sweet potato, green salad
Long version: Skirt steak may have ruined me for any other cut of beef when I make fajitas now.
I had plans to pan-fry the sweet potato and then didn't feel like getting another hot pan going on the stove, so I microwaved it. Lazy, but it does the job.
Short version: Tuna patties, pasta, carrot sticks, roasted sweet potatoes/bell peppers/onions
Long version: Look at me, all ambitious and roasting the sweet potatoes this time! I'm patting myself on the back right now.
The tuna patties were three big cans of tuna, bread crumbs, mayonnaise, Dijon mustard, two eggs, dried dill weed, and pepper all mixed together then formed into patties, and fried in bacon grease.
I was just thinking the other day that I don't really cook anything I remember eating when I was growing up, but then I went ahead and made the pasta the way my mom often did. That is, after the pasta was cooked--it was this weird "Italian blend" of three different shapes, which is really stupid because the rotini was mushy by the time the penne was cooked--I added butter, cream cheese, garlic powder, and pepper to it and mixed it around until the butter and cream cheese were all melted and evenly distributed. My mom always added Parmesan cheese from a can, too, but all I have is the block of Parmesan and I couldn't be bothered to grate any.
The term "comfort food" is terribly overused, but I must admit this is my comfort food. An immediate time machine ride to when someone else was cooking for me. Ah, the carefree days of youth. And pasta.
Short version: Pot roast with potatoes and carrots, beets
Long version: I just love using only one pan to cook dinner.
It's just so efficient.
Well, one pan plus aluminum foil for cooking the beets. I bought the beets a few weeks ago intending to use them to dye Easter eggs. Then my virtuous plans were foiled by Miss Amelia's daughter Gabby, who sent the kids an egg-dying kit. So we used that for the eggs and just ate the beets.
Short version: Beef and vegetable soup, mutton, leftovers
Long version: I used the remaining pot roast and potatoes to make the soup, along with a container of venison stock from last fall that needed to be used; plus carrots; celery; the last bag of chopped zucchini from last summer that REALLY needed to be used; the last quarter of a very old head of cabbage that REALLY, REALLY needed to be used; and some frozen green beans.
Despite the geriatric nature of some of the ingredients, the soup turned out well. Cubby, Jack, Poppy, and I ate the soup with cheddar cheese.
The mutton was a butterflied leg roast that I marinated in olive oil, apple cider vinegar, garlic, and salt, then just fried in bacon grease on my griddle pan. A. ate that with leftover roasted vegetables. Charlie ate it, too, with leftover beets and a piece of bread and butter.
Short version: Meatballs in marinara sauce, garlic bread, green salad
Long version: I had a can of tomatoes in the refrigerator that I needed to use up, so I made a marinara sauce with them and meatballs to go with the marinara, using my proprietary method.
I had to bake bread again, so we had garlic bread again. I used to bake bread every ten days. Now it's more like every six days. Soon it will probably be every other day and then I might as well just give in and open a damn bakery.
The salad was MY LETTUCE again, HOORAY. Also my radishes. The ones I could smuggle past the kids anyway, who will consume every radish I pull out of the ground immediately upon harvesting regardless of dirt.
Short version: Fried eggs, scrambled eggs, bread and butter, apple slices, raw grape tomatoes
Long version: I had a more elaborate plan for dinner than this--though still featuring eggs, so not much more elaborate--but then A. was in the middle of a large paper organizing project that required the clear space of the dining room table. So at dinner time, this was what the table looked like:
A. was planning on continuing his work after dinner and didn't want to shift a hundred pounds of paper for the twenty minutes it would take us to eat, so I made the kids food they could eat on the floor. They had egg sandwiches and apple slices on our picnic blanket on the kitchen floor.
Floor picnics are always exciting.
I made scrambled eggs for A. and me, with the additions of some leftover cooked mushrooms, salsa verde, and cheddar cheese. We got to eat at the remaining two clear spaces at the table, because floor picnics are not quite so exciting for us boring adults*.
Okay, your turn! What'd you eat this week?
* Appropriately, as I was making this dinner, Charlie randomly charged into the kitchen and announced, "Humans can't get it right. We go from annoying children, to stubborn teenagers, to boring adults." Then he charged right back out again without giving me any time to reply. Not that I was going to argue with that assessment.