Feb. 5th, 2011

aivilo_18: (Default)
Today, I had the supposed-to-be-brilliant plan of waking up early, heading for the grocery store, and buying a roast for my new slow cooker, which I've only used for soups so far.

I got up, got dressed, washed my face, put a cute hat on, grabbed my iPod and walked jauntily up the street to a soundtrack entirely comprised of Adam Lambert and Amanda Blank, because today was just that kind of happy day. I was going to make a delicious meal and it was going to be awesome.

I bought the roast and the veggies and a bottle of red wine and waltzed back home, feeling completely content with myself and my go-getter attitude towards my most favourite kitchen appliance ever, outside of my blender.

I followed the recipe and turned on the slow cooker and sat back, happily letting magic take over.

Cue now, eight hours later: I have disintegrated vegetables, something that should be delicious gravy but that kind of smells like vomit (literally) and a roast that makes me feel like I'm chewing on leather. As someone with something approximating basic experience with leather-chewing, let me tell you that there is a time and a place for that, which doesn't include me, by myself, in my kitchen, with a pouty look on my face. Usually.

Which is the story of how I'm now waiting for a medium, double pepperoni and black olive pizza and getting drunk on the rest of my "cooking wine".

Happy Saturday, everyone!

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aivilo_18

June 2012

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