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Sometimes, in times of great writer’s block, a topic will fall on my lap. Or, in this case, plop onto my plate...
A couple of years ago, in an exhibition of what I called “disappointment porn” (I kind of like that term), I wrote a diary showcasing my favorite examples of “Expectation vs. Reality.” You know, those moments when you have high expectations, only to face a sad and/or catastrophic reality. Kind of like the 2016 election, now that I think about it. Or, to pick an example with lower stakes than Trump with the nuclear codes, when you order that tasty looking queso from the menu…
This evening, I was very painfully reminded of that diary…
Dinner on Friday night can be kind of tough. I’m often out for dinner on Friday, but when I’m not, I don’t usually have much left in the kitchen. Nor do I have much energy left after a long week. Well, tonight, I found myself at home for dinner, and I had no idea what to eat. I thought about ordering pizza, but I felt guilty—so I opened the fridge and went through my cupboards, hoping something would inspire me.
Pickings were slim. I had some leftover meat sauce I’d made earlier in the week for spaghetti. I had a potato. I had all kinds of cheese in the fridge. Slowly, a plan came together. I had a vision! I was thinking a cross between a twice-baked potato and Italian-American flavors. I was going to bake a potato, cut it open, mix in some butter and ricotta to make it all creamy and gooey, pop it back in the oven, then top it with the meat sauce and a layer of mozzarella. Pop it back under the broiler for a few minutes, and that cheese would be all browned and bubbly on top. I don’t know if you’re picturing something as beautiful as I was picturing, but damn, my expectations were high.
And everything went according to plan, all the way up to loading up the sauce and mozzarella. It was shaping up to be one of my best ideas for thrown-together leftovers yet.
Then it came time to pull the thing out of the oven. Let’s just say that something went wrong between “pop it back under the broiler” and the pulling out of the oven. It looked like my potato had had explosive meat diarrhea all over the tray. That’s okay, I thought. I’ll clean this up and make it look much better on the plate. At least I had that incredible looking layer of cheese! Whom I was trying to impress, I don’t know, but I couldn’t let this potato win. That’s when things really took a nose-dive, as my spatula wasn’t enough to handle the load of shit I’d piled on top of my potato. About a hundred “fucks,” “motherfucks,” and horrific abuses of the Lord’s name later (not to mention a few burnt fingers), I got the monstrosity on the plate. All said and done, this is what I had for dinner:
Honestly? It was delicious. But I couldn’t help but be sad as I picked pieces of my beautiful layer of mozzarella out of the meat sauce diarrhea and thought about what could have been.
Reality 1, Expectation 0.
Now, on to the tops…
Top Comments (May 5, 2017):
From Tara the Antisocial Social Worker:
In Walter Einenkel's diary Republican state rep says women 'excited' to get pregnant to get free trip to travel to get abortion, elfling takes this idea to its logical conclusion.
Top Mojo (May 4, 2017):
Top Mojo is courtesy of mik! Click here for more on how Top Mojo works.
Top Pictures (May 4, 2017):
Tonight’s photo quilt is courtesy of jotter!