Yesterday, during my near-hourly trip to the grocery store, I picked up a pack of these, for some odd reason:
Egg roll wrappers! Who knew?! I figured, "Hey, I can cook some shit up, shove it in one of those bad boys, roll the fucker up, fry the shit out of it and, voila, hand-held tube of food! Count me in, Nasoya!
So, I stir-fried up a little chicken (fake chicken, courtesy of the evil chemists at Morningstar Farms), some carrots, a few water chestnuts, a little broccoli and a fistful of pineapple. Then I plopped a spoonful onto one of the wrappers, rolled the fucker up, and stuck it in some bubbling oil. About a minute later -- TUBE OF FOOD!
Here's the kicker -- they rocked! The kids ate 'em, I ate 'em, hell, the old lady even ate one. No cookbook, no internets, just a little something I like to call "Crabgenuity." I swear, I should have my own fucking show on Food Network. I'd walk in there, slap Molto Mario across the face with a piece of fatty prosciutto, and show those hacks a thing or two about Cookin' on the Go! I'm like a Kitchen MacGyver. I could make a complete dinner from a package of egg roll wrappers, a can of Hearts of Palm and a maraschino cherry, and still have time to defuse a bomb. Watch your ass, Morimoto -- 'twill be my cuisine that will reign supreme!
Like I said, I think I may have overdone it with the caffeine today.
After dinner, I overheard a great exchange between the old lady and Mr. Z:
MR. Z: You know what? Raisins bear a striking resemblence to poop.
THE OLD LADY: You said a mouthful there, dude.
Out of the mouths of babes... and old ladies.
Later, when Mr. Z was upstairs "building a log cabin" in the bathroom, I heard him shouting downstairs to me:
MR. Z: DAD!!!! DAD!!!! DAD!!!
I came running up the stairs, certain that he was either being mauled by a bear or he had a giant turd stuck sideways in his ass:
ME: WHAT?! WHAT IS IT?!
MR. Z: (calmly) Oh, um, did you know that Ocean Sunfish can weigh up to 100 pounds?
ME: (hyperventilating) Really? That's excellent. [hack, wheeze] Don't forget to wipe really well.
I've gotta get me some sleep. I think the caffeine just wore off and this post is even starting to confuse me. We'll talk tomorrow.
And don't forget to wipe really well.
6 comments:
I'm like a Kitchen MacGyver...cool. I love MacGyver..not nearly as much as the wicked Aunts in the Simpsons..but almost, LOL.
I said to my 3 yr old today, "Can you stop being a cow just for one minute" (she was misbehaving at the cemetry, taking flowers and saying they were hers, I guess it is finders keepers and all that and I s'pose the cemetry does chuck 'em all in the bin on Thursdays anyhow..but still!).
She responds with, "I'm NOT a cow boy mummy...I'm shark boy".
We ROFL after that remark.
uh, was there a dipping sauce? you've got to have dipping sauce! that's the protocol!
Curse you, Megan -- I knew you would catch the flaw in my presentation! There was no dipping sauce per se, however, I offered up a bowl of Soy Sauce to wet the 'Tubes of Food' for swifter passage through the pie-hole. I promised them a tangy, sweet/sour dipping nectar the next time around. Perhaps I'm not quite ready to go belly to belly with Molto Mario.
hey, it sounds like a delightful recipe -- truly!
but if you wanna talk the big talk, then you gotta moisten your mouth with dipping sauce.
i'm a nitpicky stickler!
Good to see you're back to your old swear-y self... after 1 whole post!!
Cazzie, I've gotta start taking my kids to the cemetery. That sounds like fun! And with Mother's day coming up, well, thanks for the flower tip!
Erin -- I waited as long as I could. And it was one day. What the fuck-- I mean heck! Aw, shit!
Post a Comment