Last night's dinner menu was simple...or should've been. I had thawed a pound of hamburger meat for my version of Spanish rice. Which is just the Rice a Roni Spanish rice with hamburger meat and Garlic and Onion flavored diced tomatoes. Sounds simple, right? Evidently not for me.
I decided to have corn as a side, put that on the stove and went about taking all the steps of making the rice as directed.
30 minutes later I fix my plate, Hubby gets his plate, and Brother gets his 1st plate. The first bite I'm thinking this doesn't taste right. I tell Hubby, "This needs salt. It's not salty enough." He says he doesn't need any then goes into the kitchen and brings it back anyway. It's because I'm hard-headed, he says, and he knew I really wanted salt on mine. I asked him if the rice tasted funny and he said that something was different but he didn't know what it was. "That's strange." was all he said after that.
So I pour the salt on my plate, mix my corn with my rice, and eat. It was not good folks. And one plate of it was all I could manage, but that's good because, you know - the diet. I hear Brother in there rattling around the stove and when I go put my plate in the dishwasher he's fixing another plateful. I asked him if he was getting seconds and he said no, that was his third plate.
Third plate! Of this stuff that doesn't even taste good?! He said he was still hungry and it tasted good. He is so full of crap y'all. I'm sorry, I love him and I could be wrong for getting mad. But you just have to know him and live with him to understand. The boy acts like he's starving to death everyday...all the time. And I know he isn't. It's all in his mind. I try to understand, but it's just so hard when I come home the day after grocery shopping and all his snacks and lunch food and drinks are missing everything except the last bite or last sip. Yes, like children do, leave the last bite or last sip just so they can say, "I didn't eat it all. I didn't drink it all." And that's exactly what he says when I ask how an entire gallon of juice is all but gone after a few hours.
So, back to my story about the rice. We all managed to eat it. They didn't complain because they both know I am looking for any reason to never cook again anyway. I get up this morning and get ready for work. Go into the kitchen to make my coffee and I see this small brown seasoning packet on the counter. It hasn't been opened, there's no writing on it to tell what seasoning it is. I pick it up and turn it over looking for anything that will let me know what it is. And then it happens - DUH, that's what comes in the Rice a Roni box. Yea, I forgot the seasoning and now I know why dinner tasted like soft cardboard.
I'm no Betty Crocker, but my cooking skills were really getting pretty good. But no, I'm an idiot. Right there on the box, literally spelled out: Slowly stir in water and special seasonings. Special Seasonings. Special as in the only thing in this box with the slightest taste.
So I write on the packet what it is, who knows maybe one day I'll get a box that's missing it's seasoning packet. And I place it in the bowl with all my other packet seasonings. Then I write a note to Hubby telling him I should be fired from cooking from now on.
He told me this morning that it made him laugh, but I don't see a pink slip.