Well, that was the consensus in my dream from last night … or more technically this morning.
About my dreams.
They don’t usually make much sense. Even when they feature people I know or places I have been.
Dreams are like that sometimes.
Like the dreams in which I am the object of some movie stars affections.
Or where I can fly … because can’t we all fly?
Or the recurring dreams I have had for years in which I am in Paris … dreams which came to an abrupt stop about a year ago.
This dream involved some kind of physical competition I was involved in.
Of course. Me. Physical competition.
Excuse me while I stop laughing here and pick myself up off the floor.
Among the various competitions I was engaging in … and winning … which definitely proves it was a dream … there was some kind of bicycle competition.
On Stationary Bicycles.
Of course. All competitive bicycling events are done on Stationary Bikes.
It was some strange combination of college, my parents house and people who used to work for me.
And when … horror of all horrors … they discovered there were not enough Stationary Bicycles to hold the competition, Holly saved the day by reaching under my parents kitchen table and pulling out a few plates of tasty food.
Of course. Food fixes everything. And food is always gotten from magic plates found under your parents kitchen table.
Did I tell you these dreams make no sense?
Which brings me to this afternoon. And I am hungry.
I would hazard a guess that I was hungry in my dream too.
Looking in my cupboards and refrigerator for something to eat today, I was faced with two unavoidable facts.
One — I had very little that didn’t need thawed.
Two — I was too lazy to go get in the car and run to the supermarket.
Time for some Culinary Creativity … definitely an oxymoron in my young life, I’m afraid.
So how did I get from zero to the dish pictured above?
Well, all the popular blogs do recipes, so I will too.
But I don’t think it goes like they say in their recipes. I think its more like this:
Holly’s Macaroni and Cheese Dish … more or less.
Start with an old tub of Ricotta Cheese and an old block of Whole Milk Mozzarella Cheese. Scrape off all green or black gunk.
Take the half-used box of macaroni and dump into pot of really boiling water. Check for any rodents first. Forget to add the oil so you are challenged to keep the little guys apart.
That’s the macaroni little guys, not the rodent little guys.
Answer the phone and forget all about the boiling macaroni.
Return to kitchen just in time to drain pasta into new colander in the sink.
Throw out pieces of macaroni that went over the edge of the colander and into the drain.
In the original pot, saute chopped up left over onion from yesterday in super-garlic-y butter. No such thing as too much garlic. Or use, as I did, a tub of store made garlic spread / butter.
Add back in all the cooked macaroni … and add some grated irradiated mozzarella found in the back of the cheese drawer of the refrigerator. No green/black separation needed.
Look for a jar of Spaghetti Sauce. Finding none, open a can of tomato sauce and dump in bottom of baking dish.
Add macaroni mixture, trying hard not to spill any.
Top with a layer of all the old Ricotta Cheese.
Put blobs of the old Mozzarella Cheese on top of that.
Pop in oven. The dish. Pop the dish in the oven.
Remember that the oven part doesn’t work, just the broiler. Start the broiler.
Cover dish with aluminum foil and put on the very bottom.
After it starts to smell good, take off the aluminum foil and let it get brown.
So that brings us to now … where I have had not one, but two servings of this concoction.
And amazingly enough … It’s really tasty.
Maybe food … even badly prepared food … really does fix all.