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desperanceI just thought, "Oh, bloody hell - next time, I'm grinding my own beef."
And then I thought, "Oh, bloody hell - is that the first time I thought "grinding" instead of "mincing"? Without even thinking about it?"
Apparently, I am now thinking in foreign.
But I'm still pissed off about the beef. It's so finely ground, it has no texture at all. It hath caused me to mince my teeth.*
In previous news, I caused m'wife to eat zucchini for lunch, against her common practice. I may not have told her until it was too late, that this was a zucchini frittata I had set before her. I liked it, though. And she said she did too. (Hint, to the similarly afflicted: grate the zucchini/courgette/marrow/summer squash/whatever. Salt it and let the juices run off for an hour. Fry it with an onion. Then mix into eggs and cheese and so forth, and bake for twenty minutes. Om nom nom, and no one will ever know unless you tell them.)
*Heh. D'you see what I did there?
And then I thought, "Oh, bloody hell - is that the first time I thought "grinding" instead of "mincing"? Without even thinking about it?"
Apparently, I am now thinking in foreign.
But I'm still pissed off about the beef. It's so finely ground, it has no texture at all. It hath caused me to mince my teeth.*
In previous news, I caused m'wife to eat zucchini for lunch, against her common practice. I may not have told her until it was too late, that this was a zucchini frittata I had set before her. I liked it, though. And she said she did too. (Hint, to the similarly afflicted: grate the zucchini/courgette/marrow/summer squash/whatever. Salt it and let the juices run off for an hour. Fry it with an onion. Then mix into eggs and cheese and so forth, and bake for twenty minutes. Om nom nom, and no one will ever know unless you tell them.)
*Heh. D'you see what I did there?