It’s Sunday. The only things I’ve done all day are eat, bitch about being hungover, nap, and try to read the WaPo print edition’s Outlook page. I’ve found that it’s much easier to read other people’s opinions than to create my own. Oh, and boycott football. Effing Birds.
Regardless, it’s now Sunday night. The chocolate and vanilla pudding I scarfed down at 5pm is no longer containing my hunger. 80’s watching the Duke game and not really paying attention to my grumbling stomach. We end up deciding that it’s just too complicated to order in; he’ll have the rest of our chili (details to follow in a later post) and I’ll play scavenger.
Okay, so before 80 and I lived together, well, 80 lived alone. Many nights I came over and “we” both cooked dinner. Other nights he ate cereal, I’m sure. And other nights, he ate packaged dinners. Although I surely didn’t approve of this, I understood the desire to want an effortless meal. Well, I’m not sure how a remnant of his solo days made it to our place (well, just like our Duke shower curtain, I guess) but there it was – a pasta side in the pantry.
So yes, I followed in the footsteps of our microwave corespondent, Liza, and whipped up a pasta side. I also took her advice and ate the whole thing myself – no side about it. Since I don’t have a microwave (her suggested cooking medium) I had to do it the old fashion way – on the stove top. I basically followed the directions exactly for “Creamy Garlic Shells: Pasta shells in a garlic, parmeasan and romano cheese sauce,” but I added some freshly grated parm cheese, black pepper and red pepper flakes after it was finished cooking.
The shells weren’t terrible, but they weren’t amazing, either. But they did the trick. I didn’t have to slice, dice, or um, cut anything. Just a couple stirs in the eleven minute span of boiling water, milk, butter, pasta and chemicals.
I’m a freaking hypocrite. Shhhh.
