29 October 2007

I smell like food.

Ew. Now I remember why I rarely cook meat. Lord have mercy, does the smell linger. Why can't the scent of the chocolate cake I baked on Saturday linger? The smell from the good stuff I make doesn't seem to hang around very long.

The World's Worst Wing Woman came over last night for dinner since The Boy I Currently Like was sick and had to cancel on me. She figured she'd be able to get in on a clean apartment and/or food and drinks if she swooped in to keep me company at the last minute. And bless her heart, she was right. I froze the lasagna I'd planned to make and instead made us a couple of sirloin steaks and oven-roasted potatoes with Herbes de Provence.

Sadly, I burned the oven-roasted Brussels sprouts. We got talking and I forgot to check on them. Oh well, she didn't want them anyway. I'd thought about making the steaks for me and The Boy, but I didn't want to spend a shitload of time in the kitchen when he was there. Having now done the steaks and burned the Brussels sprouts, I know I made the right decision. Plus, there's the whole stinky apartment thing I wanted to avoid.

My hoodie smells of broiled meat. I thought I smelled it in my hair, but I think I was imagining that. I woke up in the middle of the night to the smell of cooking. YUCK. Maybe it's just my extra-sensitive nose, but the smell hanging around in my apartment just drives me fucking nuts. Open windows, fans, candles do nothing.

I suppose I can take solace in the fact that it smells like cooking and not say, rotten ass, in my apartment. But still ... Boo, stinky apartment. Boo!


Muffy Willowbrook said...

Remind me to stop at McDonalds before I come over for your next dinner party.

Jess said...

Is this about the Brussels sprouts? I swear, they are de-fucking-licious when roasted in the oven with some olive oil, kosher salt and pepper.


Jen said...

I'd say the brussel sprouts got what they deserved....