So in the course of knowing that we would be inundated with school work and we needed a quick meal for the night I broke all the rules when it comes to eating in our house. I bought all the stuff that you need to make regular everyday spaghetti. Yeah, I did it- I attacked the organic/vegetarian monster that has engulfed our house in recent months, punched it in the face and decided I was gonna have a carb and preservative-filled supper. Erin is not a fan of this meal at all and of course she only had one serving. I on the other hand had two plates and now I am sitting in the leather chair (that I never get to sit in) hoping I don't suffer from a human explosion. However, I didn't stop with the spaghetti - I then delievered a right hook to the monster and told it I was gonna have some sweet tea. As I stood over the body of the monster and drank my celebratory glass of sweet tea like I had just won the World Series, I laughed, and knew that today I am a true champion of food.
This meal is probably the most simple meal a man can make. If you are a man and cannot cook this, you should probably just stay at McDonalds and wait on your heart attack to arrive with a bouquet of flowers. This meal is also a salute to my Dad. He always knew how to make a quick meal of spaghetti for the boys after 8 hours of crappy work in a smelly paper mill. We ate simple in my house, but the man knew how to make some spaghetti in a cast iron skillet. Thanks Dad for taking good care of me when you had already busted your rear end all day making the BENJAMINS.
The first thing I cooked was in a cast iron skillet. It is a fond memory of mine and I will never forget how it all went down. What had happened was...
...one morning my mom and dad were asleep and this young whipper-snapper woke up and decided he needed some sausage and eggs. So I pulled out the cast iron skillet just like my dad did every Saturday and cut up a link sausage. Once that was complete I cooked the sausage and then my Dad came in. I was expecting to be asked a few stern questions but he was very casual about asking if I had made enough for him. Which I had and was more than happy to let him have some once it was finished. He left me alone to cook eggs as well but they turned out to be fried instead of scrambled because I had no idea on how to scramble an egg at that point in my life. This is still an area of cooking breakfast that I struggle with - scrambled eggs. Thanks Dad for letting me just cook. Helped prepare me for when I got to college and had to make up something with what I had on hand at night when I was hungry. George Foreman helped a lot, too.