Because you most certainly want to know what we’re eating this week. I do.
Monday: Sloppy joes with rice mixed in (rice means you can use less meat ergo less money on this otherwise meat heavy meal, and rice+protein = more complete nutrient set than plain ole ‘joes), salads if the greens aren’t weird yet since the original oven fries will not succeed given my oven is d-e-a-d.
SIDEBAR: I actually stopped typing because I was laughing so hard about this next one. I don’t know if I was drunk or tired or thought I was funny when I wrote this menu, but this is how it appears on my planner worksheet.
FAT Tuesday: Eat pancakes. All of them. Raid IHOP. Ha.
Wednesday: Chicken breast stirfry with frozen veggies and rice.
Thursday: Sausage alfredo over pasta with green salads. (can I get a yes, and a please for the love of alfredo? Mmmmmm.)
Saturday: Survivor Night (That means you find some leftovers or you starve to death … your choice.)
Sunday: Grilled barbeque ribs with potatoes and garden veggies from the freezer. Dessert here depends on the status of my oven.
Now, let’s talk broken major appliances for a minute. We currently have a Tappan range. It came with the house. We had an identical make and model (in a different color) at the house we moved from to this one, and we brought it along. It hung out in the basement of the garage waiting for another chance at life as someone else’s stove which is got a number of months ago. Now, the stove in our house is broken. First, a fuel supply line was cracked/ripped/punctured in some fashion and made no longer usable by one That Boy on accident while “cleaning” under the stove top (cleaning (v): a loose term for screwing around feeling important for no solid reason other than the sweet risk of breaking things we can’t fix) so one of the burners didn’t work. That’s ok. I can recover. I can use only 3 burners. I have big pans anyway, it’s not like 4 of them fit on there at a time in the first place.
Then, the oven started it’s willful mutiny. First, it would take 183 years to preheat. That’s great for my propane bill, dontchaknow? Then, it wouldn’t preheat at all the first time you turned it on. You’d have to reset it, turn the oven off completely, set it to a much higher temperature, slam the door shut, kick the damn thing 2 times with each foot, and do some bizarre tropical voodoo dance in hopes it would work. Then 2 weeks ago (it may have only been a week … I don’t know, time is of no substance when you can’t bake things), while trying to brown potatoes in the oven for dinner, it gave us all the proverbial middle finger and died.
I mean, what else do you say at 7pm with a tray full of prepared but not cooked potatoes in your hand, a dead oven, and only 3 of 4 burners? I wish the answer were, “Pizza Delivery!”, but that doesn’t fly in this house. Sad, sad face. I feel like I’m in mourning for my stove. We’ve spent some great times together … mostly it making me sweat like a drunken prom date at a traffic stop, curse, and burn myself more times than my poor scarred hands would like to recount. We cooked some good food, that stove and I. I’d like to remember it all as amazing food in some wacky memorializing one’s stove haze of only great memories, but the reality is probably different. It feels wrong to speak ill of the dead or tell tales of burnt cookies and uneven cooking surfaces now.
Now the process of buying a new major appliance begins. It’s a barrel of fun between the disgusting vomit feeling I get at the thought of dropping $800 or (gasp!) $1600 on a car, let alone a kitchen appliance (I know, I know, one we’ll probably have a really long time … ) and the chasing That Boy around in circles at the local appliance store while he fiddles and makes notations and walks past the same spot 2,290 times. He’s an engineer at heart, and a researcher, and a planner, and an “I can’t make a decision immediately lest I self-combust from not being able to thoroughly take virtual tours of every possible model at every possible store online.” Last night we had a raging conversation about “American Made” versus “Union Made” goods instead of doing something productive like, I don’t know, falling asleep. It’s a blast, y’all. You should try it.
Dear new stove, please find us. We’ll give you a good home.
For more menu planning fun, like stalking what other people are eating for fun and … uh, inspiration, check out this week’s Menu Plan Monday at Org. Junkie.