Food... and now I have to go.

For some reason I am extraordinarily happy to be invited over to someone else's house for dinner.
I might just be served some bread and a glass of fanta, but at least I don't have to stand staying at home and hear my father say: "Your mum and me don't feel like making dinner. Go fix yourself some leftovers".

It's not that mum and dad are lazy. They're just at that age when everything's been done at least a thousand times. They feel like they're going around in an endless circle of pasta and meatballs.
So I tell them I'll make dinner.
They say: "what?"
I say: "I dunno.. We have some vegetables. We have some french fries... That salmon you bought yesterday. I could make some kind of sauce to dip the fries in."

And every single time,  I get the answer: "..hmmm. That sounds weird.."

You just can't help people who don't want to be helped.

And what the hell is wrong with eating salmon and french fries?

There will be no cook books in my house.
There will only be ingredients and free will.

Deliciousness happens by accident, anyway, doesn't it? My brother once dropped his chocolate powder on a piece of toast. Loved it.
I once put some chips on my toast.
It became an addiction.

Now, I have to go catch that bus, or Maria will kill me.


Postat av: M


2011-04-11 @ 19:17:14

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