Many of you read about my unnatural craving for pancakes while pregnant. Some of you (paging the Layne family) enabled my desires with gifts of Shake-N-Pour Aunt Jemima and organic maple syrup. I would come home from work and make a single pancake, all for me (and D). But that is only half of the story:
Steak Sauce. Sweet mother of crap, I LOVE STEAK SAUCE Ugh. I never mentioned anything to anyone about my perverse love of tangy, vinegar laced, made of raisin extract and magic: A1 steak sauce. I sipped it right from the bottle. Sometimes I gulped. I might have poured it on other foods, but who the heck cares if I did, IT WAS DELICIOUS.
That being said, I had some trouble getting Desmond to finish the roast chicken portioned out for his dinner. Peas? No problem. Carrots? No Problem. Cheese? Again, no issue. The chicken however, was wholly rejected. Solution? STEAK SAAAAAAUCE! A tablespoon of steak sauce and the chicken was devoured. Steak sauce is vegan, not terrible for preservatives or salt and boom: finger-fulls of chicken dragged through and promptly nommed.
Now you know all my secrets. I'll just be in the kitchen dipping carrot sticks into A1.
Random Baby D things:
|Russian Gangster Tracksuit.|