Tonight’s dinner was, hands down, the most stressful meal I’ve ever made (aside from Thanksgiving dinner). What did you make, you ask? Spaghetti and freakin’ meatballs (damn meatball song)!  I was planning on a simple meal of beef fajitas. Beef, onion, green pepper, tortilla and salsa. OOOOOOHHHHHH NO!  Beau calls about three, asking if we have any spaghetti in the house. Hmmmm…. wonder what he wants. I tell him we’re having fajitas and using the meat that he took out of the freezer last night but didn’t use. Even though this was not the planned meal, my ‘good wife’ mode kicked in, and I remembered that you could make your own ground beef in a food processor. So the internet search began for steak meatballs. I came up with a recipe that asked for steak, pork and veal. I had two of the three and thus my hellacious evening began.  

I started cooking at 3:30. The meal wasn’t finished until 5:30. Two solid hours of cooking! Oh. Did I mention I was trying to raise two children in the process? One was excited that she could cut, and called the other to show him the scissors. He got ahold of them, and was ‘cutting the air’ with them, using both hands. Her hand got in the way. My scissor-monster got in time out two times and argued with me about both of them ending up with more time than he expected. I was so busy in the kitchen that I was annoyed at my children when they’d ask for something or where something was, and I would practically yell at them for doing so. This really stressed me out. I don’t like ignoring my kids, but I just could not stop or those stupid little meatballs would burn! (which some of them did because the recipe told me to set my pan on high, but don’t let the oil smoke. Well, it didn’t smoke, but it was TOO high!! They ended up cooking perfectly on LOW. Stupid recipe).

The worst part?  Beau didn’t LOVE it. I envisioned him going for seconds and thirds and giving a loving belch afterward (not really). First, I had him try the two sauces. Two sauces? Yes, two sauces. There were so many stupid meatballs that the sauce I lovingly created from scratch only covered half of them. So I got out another skillet and covered the other half of the meatballs with bottled sauce. He liked the bottled sauce better (stupid Prego).

Dinner was served, he handed me some of his spaghetti squash (which I serve with the pasta) and whispered “I don’t like that.”

He picked at the meatballs and said, “This looks like turkey meat.”

“It’s not”

“Why does it look so white inside? Did you sneak something in there?”

“Carrots”

“Oh. I can taste them”. (Long Pause) ”What’s wrong?”

 I pouted that I slaved over this dinner FOR HIM and he didn’t like it.

“What are you talking about? Look! I’m eating it! I like the meatballs! I love it!”

Whatever.  Next time I’m buying frozen.

food journal

MONDAY
Breakfast
2 C coffee w/ ~2T half & half, splenda and cinnamon
1/2 wheat english muffin, 1 slice FF american, 1 Omega 3 egg

Workout:
20 min. walk hills and run

Snack:
1 C Tuna pasta

Lunch:
Spinach Salad w/ dried cranberries, 1 oz. goat cheese, 1 oz. chicken filet, 1 oz. walnuts, 1-2 T balsamic vinegrette

Snack:
pumpkin seeds

Dinner:
whole wheat spaghetti & meatballs, spaghetti squash

Snack:
dark chocolate covered edamame
red wine

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Filed under: Daily Journal
Article tags: homemade ground beef and pork, Italian, Rule of Three Diet, Spaghetti and Meatballs