| WHERE'S THE MILK?
June 2009
I'm in the middle of making macaroni and cheese (yes, from scratch). I've got the roux done and am looking for the milk in the fridge. BUT WHERE IS IT?
Our teenage daughter Rachel is upstairs showering at 7:30 PM because she's going out.
I walk up the stairs and ask through the bathroom door "Where's the milk?"
Rachel: "I drank it all."
Me: "You drank an entire quart of milk?"
She doesn't respond.
I counter with a string of curse words.
She keeps showering.
Lynn offers to go out and get some milk. He leaves and I am intensely annoyed. It's so irritating when you are trying to make a really simple dinner and one of the basic ingredients doesn't exist. Especially since I usually have a "spare" milk (kind of like a spare tire) in the downstairs fridge. THEY (Rachel and the boyfriend) must have drunk that, too!
Lynn comes back with the milk. I make a three cheese (cheddar, monterey jack and a touch of swiss) pot of macaroni . Earlier in the evening I had made a few meatballs (ground pork, homemade breadcrumbs and fresh tarragon from the garden) and let them simmer in a tomato sauce (a can of tomato puree spiked with grape tomatoes that I roasted). I also washed some spinach leaves and made a quick stir fry with garlic.
The meal was done. We ate. We drank a bottle of Chianti. Rachel, about to go out, said she was sorry. I reminded her of the house rule. If you use the last of something, I need to know. Staples don't just magically reappear. Someone (usually me) has to go out and get them.
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