Tuesday night was Slow Cooker Black Bean Enchiladas.
I realize that crock pots are for busy people who actually leave their houses during the day, but for some reason I love mine anyway. I like that something is sitting on my counter MAKING FOOD all afternoon. (I would like it better if it were an elf, but the pot is cool.) I know it would only take 20 minutes in the oven. I should probably just buy a dehydrator and cook all of my meals in it, for 32 hours or whatever. Or leave food out in the sun on the back porch. And hire an elf to supervise it.
Kay joined us for dinner and Guitar Hero. It's been about two years, and now I know that I am no longer good at Guitar Hero. I am still good at drinking bourbon.
For Wednesday I wanted to come up with a recipe that would comfort me in my loneliness, back when I thought that I would be enshrouded in loneliness, and Smitten Kitchen's 44 Clove Garlic Soup seemed like a reasonable way to go.
She describes it as "subtle," and I should have interpreted that as "not garlicky enough by a long shot," but I was hesitant to apply my normal rule of doubling or tripling the garlic in any given recipe, since that would quickly result in a really comical number of garlic cloves. I won't make that mistake next time. My palate demands garlic in obscene amounts. I feel like it mostly just tasted like the chicken stock base, which in my opinion was too salty and sort of blah. Maybe with a better broth the garlic would have come through more strongly. I'll let you know how my 132 garlic clove version turns out.