We are studying Ancient Rome in our History curricula. Therefore, when I found a recipe for Lentil Stew that had this interesting tidbit of info attached:
“The average Roman soldier wore 80 lbs of armor and walked 20 miles per day and each man did such feats with bare provisions-a small bag of lentils, with a condiment of fermented fish sauce.”
I thought my little gladiators would be thrilled to eat such AUTHENTIC Roman soldier fare! It took two days to make. I had to soak the green lentils for hours. It had Thai fish sauce in it. No salt. No garlic. No butter. (your first clue that a recipe is bad) I even added all that, afterwards-trying to salvage the slop. Nothing helped.
It looked horrid, smelled worse and the taste?
Josiah liked the corn muffins I served alongside but threatened moving to the nearest bridge underpass, if I made him eat any of that baby diarrhea….
Sam prayed for mercy…
Caleb insisted lentils were full of gluten (they are not) and no, thank you, he just couldn’t risk his priceless health!
We had another boy, a 12 year old friend, who lived with us for a week and a half while his parents celebrated a big anniversary. He is a sweet child. Polite, gracious and raised with impeccable manners (that unfortunately did not rub off on my own ruffians). He tasted more than a few spoonfuls before I insisted he didn’t HAVE to eat it, it WAS disgusting, even I thought so-you won’t insult me, we’ll do sandwiches tonight instead and oh, please! don’t eat any more, child you might get ill…
He smiled with such relief, that I couldn’t help but to burst out laughing!
This soup was my biggest cooking bomb yet, worse than the “wagon wheel pasta casserole” (Remember that, Kelli?) or the time I chopped garlic for lasagna, forget to scrub the board and proceeded with slicing strawberries in the same spot. That’s a recipe for really terrible strawberry-garlic pie, there. This stew was even worse than the time in 1996 when I tried to sneak tofu into the spaghetti sauce (note: you cannot hide gelatinous white cubes). John almost divorced me over that one and I had to make solemn vows swearing that no soybean products would enter our home again. ever. Well? This soup was far worse.
So for the kind friends and family who enjoy my cooking and insist firmly that I am Betty Crocker and kind of got my head all swollen with the flattery and starting to believe? Well, pride goeth before a fall and I admit to stumbling over a giant 6 quart crockpot full of green glop.
that I felt sorry for the toilet bowl I poured it down.
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, so silly
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