It's crap. It's food. Maybe it's Tussin.

Dear Internet,

If there is anything I really can't do (and don't let this fool you, there are plenty) the biggest issue I have in life, aside from all the BS other stuff, is that I can't really follow traditional cooking concepts, ideas, themes, or recipes. I'm not saying that it's some Julie and Julia crap. It's not even that entertaining. My hallmark faux pas is burning garlic and/or adding too much flour to things.

Last night I made creamed spinach. Previously I had made a beautiful rue, and the resulting dinner (sirloin steak medium rare, creamed spinach ala Shelly ala Food Network, and mashies) was awesome. Last night, however, it tasted like I spilled a buttload of Robotussin, or perhaps Safetussin, into the rue itself. I'm not going to use fancy words like gamey or even light and poorly executed. This shit was shit.


And again tonight while I decided to play Holly Homemaker -- I cleaned the bathroom, hallway, living room, and kitchen -- I thought: what the hell, lemme make that Giada De Laurentiis recipe again, but without the peas and carrots.

Now we all know that Giada and I go way back, together like peas and carrots, but who would have thought that mascarpone and cream cheese was fucking abominable together without the peas and g-darn carrots. Not to mention the garlic I thought I would add because I'm Italian American. (Truth be told I'm only a quarter, so I should have realized this would be a major fuck up a while ago.)


Harold, my favorite gato omnivore, wouldn't even eat this garbage. Now all I'm left with is some Tecate. And some chips and sour cream. Thanks, Giada, you awful liar. That's my tomato blood on your hands.

Breaking plates, pots, and pans,
Shelly