I had such high hopes for today's lunch. But now, just like a bad relationship, I just want to pretend it never happened.
(A few friends are coming over later, and I don't know what it is about visitors that makes me want to experiment, but it's probably best that they not know about this. I wouldn't be a very good host if I served them this culinary accident - I think I'll just break out the packaged cookies.)
You see, I thought I'd make a cream sauce. (Not an oily, curdled cottage cheese sauce.) I had garlic, olive oil, white wine, half-and-half (oh, and some smoked salmon - that's what those little orange things are). All good, right? No. Not good. I'm not exactly sure what happened, as I had the heat on really low, but the cream took on a truly nauseating texture. (I should mention that while I was trying to "cook," my son was deleting important messages from my answering machine, so it was hard to concentrate.) I am pretty sure I put too much olive oil in there, though.
A popular saying comes to mind when I look at this pan: "Let's not and say we did."
Time to go raw my dear
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