Father's Day Weekend

 Happy post-Father's-Day-Tuesday, fathers! I made you a hamburger!

No, my brother did. Also I ate your hamburger. Sorry.

We spent the weekend in Mansfield with my father (et al.) and it was a nice, quiet, meat-eating couple of days. The girls showed Dan how much they loved him by relieving him of much of his ice cream burden.

Nothing is too good for their Daddy!

I also wanted to show Dan how much I loved him, so I told him to pick any "category of food" for dinner and he said "French toast" and I said "fine, I'll decide then." (Don't worry, I made him French toast for breakfast, I AM NOT A MONSTER.) I tried to figure out what was the manliest cookbook left on the list, but I couldn't find another Phillip Morris Manstruction Manual. Seriously, there WAS another, chili-based one, but I can't find it. Ivy was messing with it and then it fully disappeared, so I assume she figured out what the deal was and threw it away for me.

I'm so proud of you, honey.

So it seemed like the next best thing would be Cookbook #67: The Food Lover's Guide to Meat and Potatoes (Sharon Tyler Herbst, 1996). Provenance: Mom. Previous recipes on this blog: none. Number of vegetable dishes I should eat going forward this week: several.

I went with Spiced-Twice Potato Hash, which is a weird name that I think indicates the presence of both sweet and Russet potatoes, because I only "spiced" it once. Confusing. But delicious, as almost all hash is as far as I know.

You can tell I wasn't feeling too hot yesterday, because what kind of person serves hash without an egg on top of it? MAYBE I AM A MONSTER AFTER ALL.

Verdict: I wasn't wild about the selection of recipes, but the one I did try was solid, so who knows? I'm basically never going to get rid of any book that discusses potatoes at length.

Right now this is what's happening with my child's head in the mornings.

Ignore the weird lighting and focus on the open defiance of physics.

Oh, I'm not asking for advice or anything. I think we've got it covered.