Just to start off, I am not even too sure where I have been this last week. I can catch you up with a little tale of a fella named Boatshoes. Boatshoes is a gentle giant, who reminds my kid to use his inside voice, when I can never recall that quaint phrase and yell for him to shut his freaking trap! Boatshoes also happens to be a good cook and someone who, unlike myself still, actually seems to enjoy it. Last Thursday, Boatshoes made us dinner, and what I thought would be more of a simple prep, as he was making reubens, really shocked the sin out of me.
Readers, he made the reuben meat, like it was a hunk of meat which he had made. I thought reuben meat came from the deli, foods like hummus or potato salad which simply exists because it is behind a counter waiting for me to pick it up. Now this picture above is not a good indicator of the magnitude of these reubens, because I don't eat anything, and so if I had a picture of Boatshoes or the hubs' reubens, they would also have the sour kraut, spicy mustard, dark rye bread, Swiss cheese, and whatever else I am forgetting accompanying their plate as well. oh, and of course.... a salad... la tee da, I am getting so sick of the salad thing, I either have to learn to eat them or I am going to start every meal with a squeeze tube of hot fudge which I will just hold over my head and squirt into my mouth while others are eating their salad. Take that! The meal was fantastic and it was great to listen to Boatshoes' stories. I will mention that Boatshoes also provided me with a side dish that I am keeping on the downlow because I plan on stealing it and making it my own. And it is such a cheat that I can not stand to uncover it, plus it could really gross out my foodie friends.
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