I meant to tell you about dinner tonight.
I thought I would get creative with the crap that I needed to use up before it died in the fridge. I had big ideas. High hopes, even. I spent all day thinking of succulent meatballs, rich tomato sauce fragrant with basil and black pepper, and pasta baked with a bubbly layer of cheese.
But the meatballs dehydrated, the sauce was runny and flat-tasting , and the basil took on a twinge that was vaguely reminiscent of poison. I burned the cheese.
So we ordered chicken. The wine was good.
Bulgogi update still to come. For now, I am sedated with trans fats and cheap sauvignon blanc.