I fried up some chicken last night. I made some excellent gravy, though my hand was a tad heavy on the salt. Those things happen when you cook by the seat of your pants. I usually don't use much salt in my cooking, but I guess I shook more than i thought. I probably should not salt straight from the blue can next time. Mind you. it was certainly still good, you just did not need to add any salt at the table. Green beans I doctored with onion powder and red pepper flakes, mashed spuds, and biscuits rounded out the meal.
The wife has been whining for a couple of weeks for chocolate chip cookies. I tell her to have at it, she knows I don't like to bake. But since I am a prince of a human being I baked a batch of homemade chocolate cookies last night while she was doing laundry. I guess if I don't have to wash and fold my tighty whities or shirts it is worth it. It is not that I mind making cookies, it is just it tales so dang long. If the recipe just made a dozen or so, I could deal with that . It is the boring nine minute stretches between batches (and yes we have two good cookie sheets) that drives me batty. I stood and read in-between cooling and reloading the cookie sheets.
And there you have it, a Monday post that is free of politics, starts of weak and then sort of fizzles.
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