Once again, it’s feed Craig’s work mates day.
Pulled pork sandwiches, baked beans, macaroni and cheese, potato salad and S’mores brownies.
Meat, fat and carbs. No veggies.
Just how they like it.
The cooking process is going quite smoothly, with the exception of the bag of yucky yukon gold potatoes I bought last week. I guess I should have inspected the bag more carefully (or at all)because those potatoes were filled with ugly eyes and brown spots.
Thankfully Craig saved the day and bought a new bag this morning.
Aw, my hero.
Yesterday I swung by the commissary for hamburger buns and bananas. And ice cream.
I buy bananas at least three times a week, in case you were wondering. Their shelf life, or lack thereof, makes buying in bulk complicated.
As it turns out, I was feeling quite fruity yesterday and bought strawberries, oranges, grapefruit, blueberries and the aforementioned bananas.
I’m a big orange fan. I tend to gravitate towards the perfect looking ones that appear as if they’ve been spray painted with orange paint. None of those thin skinned greenish brownish orangish ones, thank you very much. It appears as if I’m an orange snob. I confess, I like the pretty. As the chefs on television say, you eat with your eyes first.
As it happens, the pretty oranges looked quite uncharacteristically unpretty (and expensive!) so I begrudgingly bought a bag of oranges that must have landed in the reject pile.
And you know what?
They are the best tasting oranges EVER. Evidently the “you can’t judge a book by it’s cover” theory applies to oranges.
Who knew a life lesson would manifest itself in my fruit drawer.