We Don't Use Plastic Utensils in This House!

Something must be in the air this week, as Scott and I admittedly made two doozies this week.

On Monday, I attempted a Greek orzo and shrimp salad that BOMBED. I must have added too much mint, okay, so I undoubtedly put in far too mint, as the whole thing tasted like fishy toothpaste. Not a fine quality in a dinner dish.

So into the wastebasket that went, and Scott and I retreated to Fat Mo's for a cheeseburger relief. Fat Mo's: a great place to inhale your uber-greasy burger and fries and to feel guilty simply about the name of the restaurant itself.

On Tuesday, Scott made stuffed peppers in the Crock Pot. Again, a disaster. His words: "It's bland and kinda soupy." Yep. Another meal tossed in the trash. Our salvation that night was a quick fix of scrambled egg breakfast burritos . Fast and tasty.

Tonight, for my marathon training group meeting at the Sportsplex, I made a curried fruit salad with mangoes, granny smith apples and raisins, dressed in yogurt. I improvised, as I had this salad earlier this week at a random cafeteria-style "bistro" in a retired educator's assisted living facility (No joke - but the food is healthy and interesting!) near my workplace.

I evidently tripped or sneezed while adding the curry powder because the force was quite strong. It tingled a little too much - a fruity burn, so to speak. I left it behind, as I had made a tossed salad also (niiiiiiiiiiiice - a backup!). Then I came home and stubbornly ate some while watching 30 Rock.

So dammit, not much success in the Adams kitchen this week. The best meal I've had all week was in a nursing home, can you believe it?

And so, about the title of this blog post:
About a month ago I burned some pancakes I reaaaaaaaally wanted for a lazy Saturday morning breakfast. Scott, being the sweet person he is, asked to eat them despite their blackened crustiness. I grumpily sat down to the table to find that Scott brought a plastic knife to the table to spread the margarine. In my deranged bad food angst, I grabbed the knife, spewed the now-classic "We don't use plastic utensils in this house!," and hurled the knife at the kitchen sink. Unfortunately for me and the pseudo-point I was trying to make, I aimed too low and the plastic offender hit the cabinet under the sink, leaving a smear of Brummel and Brown on the cabinet doors.
It was not my finest hour... Downright embarrassing.

Consider ""We don't use plastic utensils in this house!" to be on par with my other motto: "I never wear sweat pants in public." Sometimes you just have to compromise, accept the circumstances and make some exceptions.


  1. We were not "allowed" to use plastic utensils, paper napkins or put ANY condiments on the table.
    My father's father was a pharmacist with his own shoppe complete with lunch counter. I think my father ate many meals at that lunch counter and as an adult, banned ANY reminders of drug store dining in his home.
    Not a bad thing.....
    L in Georgia

  2. Erin, I have no idea why on earth Scott would provoke you so. Crazy man! Of course there are no plastic utensils at the table...this isn't McDonald's!



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