Happy Friday! Nearly the weekend! Future's so bright we gotta wear three dozen pairs of shades!
Ugh, I am sorry for this. Don't look directly under the hat. I think it might be Cthulhu. |
Yeaaaaah. I don't know if I should delete that game or just bury my entire phone deep within the earth and burn some sage over it. While I decide, let's check in with my Salted TV curriculum.
I'm back to picking and choosing recipes, although I think watching an entire "course" is a little more entertaining. Maybe next week. First up, the inexplicably named "Sexy Mermaid Pan Fried Cod."
This is a normal, acceptable variation on pan-fried fish, but that name. Is this what the sexy mermaid eats for dinner? Did the sexy mermaid prepare this for us in her inimitable sexy way? Is this…are we eating the sexy mermaid? Like some sort of under-hat sea-monsters? B+
Okay, next up is---AAAUGH NOOOO.
WHY |
Sorry. Pink Coleslaw. Next up is Pink Coleslaw.
The main thing pink coleslaw has going for it is the potential to appeal to the girl child who categorically refuses to be associated with any colors other than pink or purple at the moment. This is a different approach to the age of three than that of her sister, who spent fourteen months wearing a black baseball cap morning and night, and we are all trying to adjust to the change.
The main drawback of pink coleslaw is that this type of recipe taps into my very specific, counterproductive style of laziness, wherein I create a huge amount of work by attempting to avoid a small amount of work. In this instance, I will: 1) look at the large pile of vegetables to be shredded; 2) briefly consider getting out the food processor attachment that would dismantle them quickly; 3) reject that option, as it requires opening the pantry door and leaning over and having to plug something in; 4) spend 35 minutes grating vegetables by hand instead.
I would say this dish was a success with the children, in that they did not really eat any of it, but they did tolerate the pile sitting in front of them without complaining. B+
When Ivy is forced into a non-sanctioned color, she tries to keep it incognito.