I keep doing it. I keep thinking, Jennie, you need to get working on that blog of yours, and it keeps not happening. Seriously, I posted twice as often when I was in the throes of grad school, what could I have now that could come anywhere close to an excuse?
How about this kitchen table? Anyone interested can sign me up for Clean Sweep, Hoarders, or any other television program in which I might be entitled to a $1000.00 gift card from The Container Store. I would give you a kiss and bake you some cookies. Speaking of cookies, I have 3 or 4 recipes to share with you. However, Deb tells us that posts about cookies (well, she says gingerbread), “are about as relevant the day after Christmas as heart-shaped boxes of candy are the day after Valentine’s.” And thus, I will spread them out over the next couple weeks. You will not find them in this, the hot-mess post.
You will find a dinner that matches my mental state over the past couple of weeks.
I was not even fit to be photographed at said table.
But, domestic goddess that I am, I still put dinner on the table, with a little help from P-Dubs. I made the famous Chicken Spaghetti, aka, the only casserole Marlboro Man will eat. My husband is nothing like Marlboro Man. He doesn’t work with his hands all day, and he only partakes in Cowboy Food occasionally. But he doesn’t really like casseroles either. So perhaps this one would work.
Dinner was a hot mess too, but my goodness was it a great one. It’s nice when dinner matches your mood, isn’t it? This casserole is packed with cheese, and as I skipped the pimentos and pepper, that’s pretty much where all the flavor was. But ooooh is it ever creamy and comforting. I served it with a heaping serving of salad to make myself feel a little better about the fat, dairy and carbs I was consuming quite ravenously. I would never deign to compete with Ree, so let her show you what to do.
But know this:
If you’ve roasted a chicken for Sunday dinner, and are wondering what to do with all the leftovers you have, get shredding and skip the beginning steps. I won’t tell that you didn’t cook the spaghetti in the stock.
And if you aren’t a fan of anything in here, leave it out. Swap cream of mushroom for cream of something you like better. I was going to switch the green for a red pepper, but I forgot to pick one up at the store. The world is still spinning, and I’m still wishing I had another serving of chicken spaghetti in the fridge.