The other day, I was thinking about my little brother and how , I instinctively assume his diet consist of cereal, pop tarts and, pizza pockets. I know that isn’t true, but hey, he’s my little brother. The only time I’ve ever seen him make a meal that didn’t involve small kitchen appliances was the time he spent a couple weeks subsidizing himself on cinnamon toast. To this day, he only eats cinnamon toast when he knows I’m going to make it. Not to mention his Mac & Cheese phase. Ugh, he’s the only person I know who actually tired to freestyle Mac & Cheese from a box because he didn’t want to read the directions. Even though that was years ago, I still assume its his ongoing cooking habit. Which is a good thing because it brings up to the point of this post: transition away from what I like to call “survival cooking.”
The last time I went home, I babysat my oldest brothers kids. I had this glorious idea that I would cook everything for them, including the desserts. Truth be told, my mouth was bigger than my stomach. Instead of this being a three day testament to my fabulous kitchen skills it ended of a frustrating adventure that culminated in the refrigerator breaking. I don’t think the two things are connected, but I can appreciate the horrible timing of it all. Sure, some of the meals where greatly enjoyed, but given the time it took to do everything, I could honestly appreciate the appeal of TV Dinners and takeout. The one thing I did manage to hit out of the ballpark was the cinnamon roll pancake.
True story, I decided on the last minute to go to a potluck, which meant trying to think up something quick and cheap to make, thus the original to these lovely pizza croissants. This whole thing probably cost me about $15 and 35 minutes or so.
In honor me contemplating how much I love choose your own adventure books, I’m going to let you choose your own pre-emblem. Remember, no peaking!