WHO'S IN THE KITCHEN & WILL WE SURVIVE?

What is it about holidays that brings out the "best of times and the worst of times".  Great to see family and enjoy a great meal and fun activities.  Followed by the often inevitable attack of the bugs. Winter in close quarters allows people to mingle and share all the germy little creatures that we are blessed with.  As with all traditions, we share more than just fellowship and food.  Garden and patio parties are much healthier as we can cough, sneeze and spit into the healthy outdoors. Just as the buggies seek warmer places to snuggle during the winter so do people. Close quarters allow things to grow and fester.  Ewww.  And little people are great transporters. They're kind of like two sided tape by both carrying and catching whatever is nearby.

I am usually the first casualty which if it gets bad enough I get over my guilt at skipping my "intense" exercise routine.  Then Burt falls victim - though he blames me.  A couple of days of drugs and I'm good. However,,,,, his becomes entrenched in his chest leading to extreme bouts of coughing, gagging, blowing... well you get the picture.  At any rate even I cannot expect him to continue the cooking chores - for my own protection - and really he is pretty sick. 

Ok - I can cook, I think but I'm not big on planning.  Consequently I have become the Queen of casseroles. Several cookbooks are consulted and then I decide if I have the necessary ingredients on hand. Of course not, so I improvise.  Chicken stock instead of chicken broth is probably the mildest infraction.  Ok and pie crust instead of crescent rolls for the lattice top - it's the same thing right? Some of my other substitutions could be lethal but in small doses are ok. Or leaving stuff out of the recipe shouldn't make that much of a difference right?  Then when I presented my latest presentation he confesses he can't taste anything anyway.  Hmmm. To test this theory I made a Mexican style meatloaf loaded with salsa, picante and a whole can of green chiles.  Couldn't taste a thing but he did compliment me on the nice firmness of the loaf (his meatloaf usually) falls apart. Of course he doesn't know I was using the meat thermometer on Celsius which read 98 degrees and I needed 160 Fahrenheit so technically the meat was over 200 degrees.  Damn straight it held together.  Actually I don't think it tasted too bad.

At any rate, I hope he gets better soon.
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