I made dinner the other night. Yes, I’ve been feeling progressively horribler and horribler (sick people get to make up words as they go), but earlier this week I managed to throw a meal together using leftovers from the weekend.
And it was comfort food, after all. Chicken Tetrazzini. Creamy, starchy, warm and comforting.
So I picked all the chicken off the carcass from last Friday’s roast chicken, saving the skin and bones for stock, of course, and I cooked the spaghetti, and I made a bechamel which became the base for the sauce.
But I had no Parmesan. It’s one of the ingredients, though, and what was I going to do? (This is where being sick leads to insanity in the kitchen when things aren’t going the way they should. There’s no room for creativity. Bad Things will happen if you don’t use the Exact Ingredients Called For. Or, at least, that’s how it seems.)
And because I so wanted this to taste right (despite the fact that my taste buds were already working improperly), I caved. Yes, I did.