Death, Destruction and Mayhem

No matter what happens in the kitchen, never apologize.

Have any of you ever wondered why the dinner hour is the most violent part of our day? Have any of your family members run to the hills to hide at the thought of having to hear your screeching voice say one more time, “Why can’t one of you cook dinner once in a while?”

Tilly: There’s a splendid clip on TikTok (I think) of a man asking a woman what’s for supper.

 ‘Nothing,’ she replies.

 ‘But we had nothing last night!’ he says.

‘I know – I made enough for two nights!’

Olive: Brilliant. Love that response.

Oh, yes, death, destruction and mayhem, all in the first five minutes of trying to figure out what’s for dinner. Death, to the others in the house who just presume that YOU have to cook dinner, destruction of the kitchen so you don’t have to cook dinner and mayhem to the lot of them for asking. “What’s wrong, dear?”

Olive: My mammaw taught me how to throw a cast iron skillet. Works great with mayhem.

Yes, you have pored through the library of cookbooks that today look more like picture books, nothing.  You remember your favourite cooking show and still nothing.  In fact the more you think about it, murder and mayhem sound good.  Destruction not so much, because you would only have to clean the damn mess up before the neighbours and cops showed up, and we know there is no fun in that.

Looking at the clock, you realize it is too late to thaw something out, dinner is at five and it is now four o’clock.

Tilly: It’s hell when you are just not in the mood to cook.

Olive: Oh heavens, we are agreeing again. Wonder what our readers will think?

Tilly: As the late Queen Elizabeth advised, ‘Never complain, never explain.’

Oh, I do have to admit that an evil grin will spread across your face with just the right menu for tonight.

One small package of macaroni, a jar of your favourite cheese spread, a small can of tuna, drained of course, and to top it off a can of peas, drained.  Peas are best for this; I have been informed by my son (who hates peas) that peas can be evil. If you want to get even just overcook the macaroni and not fully drain the tuna, it is best that you decide.  Drain the macaroni, and add the tuna, peas and cheese, mix well and place in the oven until a crust forms on top.  Serve.

Tilly: Hmm … macaroni, great. Tinned tuna? Nah – like chewing wood. Cheese spread? Meh … probably never seen cheese at any stage of production. Peas – frozen peas would have a better colour and possibly texture. How about a jar of artichokes? And a jar of red peppers? Plus the peas. Great colour. If pushed because there’s no cheese in the fridge, maybe there is a tin or packet of mushroom soup? Or make a quick sauce with milk, mustard, cornflour, parsley. Mix and bake.

Olive: Oh, great, why are you creating a feast?

Tilly: I love macaroni cheese, especially when it appears with plenty of colour. Into truffled macaroni cheese at the moment … use truffle salt in the sauce, coat the drained macaroni with truffle oil before adding the cheese sauce, sprinkle truffle dust on top after it’s baked … swoon. Add an interesting green salad (as in not just one type of lettuce) and double swoon.

If anyone complains after that, well then maybe destruction and mayhem should be next.

Tilly: Indubitably.

Olive: Can’t you just for once put that British part of you aside and use simple words?

Indubitably: adverb:  In a way that is patently evident or certain; unquestionably; without doubt

Tilly: Why resort to verbal diarrhoea when one word will do the trick? I learned today that the Danish for this, literally translated, is ‘word horny’! How about that?

Enjoy.

Olive and Tilly

Copyright secured by Digiprove © 2023 Yvonne Oots