So, yessterday Monkey Boy missed out on fulfilling his Anti-Piss-Mummy-Off duties yesterday, whereby he was to aid me in preparing dinner for everyone, because we got home later than anticipated.
He got to (was “forced” according to him, but I really don’t recall any guns being held to heads, tazers, sharp pointy sticks for poking or even knife waving. Well, maybe some knife waving but not much) help be tonight.
I love food. I love cooking Sadly, I’m neither “great” at it, nor terribly inspirational. Since having kids, the diversity in my meals has pretty much come down to either spaghettie or penne with bolognaise sauce. Present me with 500g of minced beef and I can gaurantee you’ll get one or the other … excpet on really special occasions where you’ll get lasagne!
Quite bored with the prospect of having bolognaise for dinner, again, yet not knowing what to do with the entire kilogram of beef I had to contend with, I contemplated meatloaf. Never cooked it before. Possibly because, when I was about ten, I threw up in my uncle’s car the night after having eaten my aunty’s meatloaf. In hindsight, I’m sure the two are unrelated, but these things stick with you.
Anyway, I dragged out my cookbook aka asked the Grumpy one how to cook meatloaf and what ingredients would be required. Essentially, it’s like