tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35333449.post8554130385756243861..comments2023-12-04T08:00:08.414-05:00Comments on Last Refuge of a Scoundrel: Chicken and RiceLarryhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11308171394825291900noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35333449.post-2924934582772942442015-01-25T17:01:55.270-05:002015-01-25T17:01:55.270-05:00Sean, always nice to have a bit of perspective. My...Sean, always nice to have a bit of perspective. My mother's line was eat it or wear it.<br /><br />Dan, the cobbler went over very well.<br /><br />Thanks for dropping by!Larryhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/11308171394825291900noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35333449.post-88418798902149949292015-01-25T10:51:47.473-05:002015-01-25T10:51:47.473-05:00Chicken and rice is always good, and you're ri...Chicken and rice is always good, and you're right, you don't have to be much of a cook to make it.<br />I saw the comment about peach cobble on the moron horde gathering place; also an excellent dish and very good with a little vanilla ice cream.<br />Nice morning in NC.<br />Cheers y'allDan Pattersonhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/18306436521768077821noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35333449.post-43394209338958611292015-01-25T10:09:17.446-05:002015-01-25T10:09:17.446-05:00Two food and wife related stories.
We got married...Two food and wife related stories.<br /><br />We got married on January 1 2007. We spent the night in a B&B in NC and drove to our new home in Allentown, Pennsylvania. This was the first time we were to live together. On the 2nd of January, our first meal together, she made me meat loaf. It was good meat loaf, but it's become something of a running joke that for our first meal she made me something so stereotypical. Luckily, I really like her meat loaf and ask for it occasionally.<br /><br />A few months later, the Wife attempted a leg of lamb. It was God-awful. As bad as you can imagine it being while still looking like a leg of lamb and not toxic waste. I bravely chewed my portion. She ate a few bites and said, "I really don't like this." I dropped my fork, snatched her plate and mine, dumped them both in the trash and said, "Let's go get pizza." <br /><br />She always appreciated that I had not complained and had done my best to eat what she had cooked. But then, when I was a child, my father always gave me a choice. Eat what mom cooks or get a spanking and then eat what mom cooks. And after mom's liver and onions, the leg of lamb wasn't that bad. Sean D Sorrentinohttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02710448105506060349noreply@blogger.com