I'd gladly cook dinner for Peter Brady. But I'd layer sliced apples and onions atop my butterfly chops and serve them up with a side order of corn bread and steamed green beans.
I've made casserole and pot roast this week for supper and we have leftovers of the casserole and some spaghetti. For dinner Mr. D has asked me to make a disgusting pork chop thingy. He comes from a heritage of cream soups, Velveeta cheese, canned vegetables, deep frying and basting foods with bacon grease. (No kidding. His mother still keeps a jar of bacon grease under her sink.)
For supper tonight he wants me to "Brown the pork chops in a frying pan so they're brown. (um, duh, honey) Then put them in the crock pot with two cans of cream of mushroom soup and a can of peas. Mmmmmm." (This is when he rubs his hands together and rolls his eyes with delight.)
I. Will. Not. Buy. Canned. Peas.
Cream of mushroom soup is just as gross.
Why the hell would I use a frying pan AND a crock pot? And have to wash up both when supper's done?
Thank God for leftovers. Just imagining the smell of that creammushroomsoupcannedpeasporkchops makes me feel queasy.
And the fact that I'm mad at Mr. D makes it even easier to not cook this meal.
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