I'm sure that many of you are now aware that I am a weak woman. Not to sell myself short, because there are plenty of things that I'm actually pretty good at, but Will Power is so not one of them. One of the main things that I (apparently) have a real problem with is Butter Chicken.
I know, I know! You thought I was going to say something like Valium or chocolate or excessive alcohol. Well, I've never had a Valium, I only mildly like chocolate, and I can stop drinking any old time I want to. But get a container of Butter Chicken in the house and I'm in big whooey trouble. For those of you that don't know what the H-E double hockey sticks I'm talking about, you clearly haven't ever been introduced to Indian Food Heaven. Butter Chicken is chunks of chicken breast that are tandoori cooked and then served in this 2000 calorie per tablespoon-thick-creamy- tomatoey-deliciousness of a sauce. You eat said deliciousness with basmati rice (and my personal favorite, naan~ flat yogurt-based bread).
It's becoming a Friday night tradition. Chris gets home. We order pizza for the Girls. Then we order Indian Food for us, and Chris runs out to pick it up. The restaurant we order from sends way too much food (of course), so there's always plenty for the next day. So two helpings on Friday night, and two helpings for lunch on Saturday. Auggggh!
I have just finished the container. I swore to myself that I would only have ONE serving. But I left myself too many loopholes by not giving myself specifically worded instructions. Instead of saying to myself "Self, you will only have one helping of butter chicken!", I should have said: "SELF! YOU! WILL! ONLY! HAVE! ONE! SERVING of RICE, CHICKEN and SAUCE, and you will NOT under any circumstances go into the trash can to get the container of sauce out so that you can eat the rest of the rice with two more generous scoops of said sauce! YOU WILL NOT under any circumstances do something that gross!"
Yeah... well, hindsight is twenty-twenty, and I could say coulda-shoulda-woulda all day, but the fact of the matter is that I didn't tell myself any of those things, so here I am.
BLUSH. I need help.
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3 comments:
Hi Megan,
Thanks for dropping by my blog and asking me to have a look at your work.
You must be related to my teenage son. He enjoys a meal of butter chicken - and yes, I was born in India, so butter chicken is fairly big in our house!
And with regard to the Wii - I get flogged by my kids on Wii Play. For a real fair dikum tennis player, I am hopeless at the on-screen version.
By the way, a Canadian friend of mine, Nancy Harper, uses exactly the same layout as you do on your blog. Hers is called TravellinMama - have a look, tell her I told you to check her out and do leave a comment. I think you'll really enjoy her style and her irreverent sense of humour.
Cheers
David
http://david-mcmahon.blogspot.com/
Yeah, good Indian food is really hard to pass up on seconds and thirds. I promise when I am home this summer that I make the sacrifice and help you out and make sure that there are no leftovers for Saturday lunch.
Thanks Megan, every little bit helps. And keep on truckin', supermama!
cheers,
nancy
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