So earlier this evening, Dave and I decided we'd grill some chicken. We haven't had old skool baked mac 'n cheese in a while so I mixed up a batch and popped it into the oven as our carbohydrate dish for the evening. Yeah. Um. I don't know what the hell happened but some of the eggs decided to sort of scramble.
You'd think a girl with ten plus years of cooking classes wouldn't have these sorts of disasters erupting from her oven but there it was. I'm convinced it was the lack of sour cream in the egg, milk and butter mixture. I've used that recipe a bajillion times and that's the only difference between tonight and the past.
Even though it looked like a bizarre macaroni and cheese quiche, it tasted so effing good. I'm kinda toying with the idea of trying to replicate it with some yummy ham or breakfast sausage the next time we're having brunch. It will either be totally scrumptious or a barftastic disaster. I'm feeling a bit adventurous lately so I'm going to go for it.
This is the second time in as many weeks I've had a major uh-oh in the kitchen. I made some whole wheat zucchini banana bread that refused to rise. I kept poking it with a knife while cursing the kitchen gods. Finally, I realized I'd forgotten to add baking soda. *Facepalm*
I'm convinced it's pregnancy brain. Zaphod has completely sucked my brain dry of all omega fatty acids. I think the DHA supplement in my prenatal vitamin is all that's keeping me from deflating into a slobbering, jabbering mess. From what I hear, it doesn't get any better after the baby makes her debut.
Good thing Dave has a stomach of steel. Who know what kind of nightmares I'll be dishing out in a few weeks?!?
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