The Festival of Forbidden Foods.
With my good lady wife travelling every week for work at the moment I am free to indulge in all of those meals which would earn me a severe frowning upon were I to suggest cooking them during other, more wifely interludes.
So far we’ve had two giant pots of chilli beef and beans, lamb curry, and fettuccine carbonara done properly, which is to say the Roman way, which is also to say the only way.
Tonight, I’m reaching back nearly thirty years to my time in Sydney to try my hand at Kapitan Chicken.
Every couple of years the girls head off to a conference. Cue making a big pot of two bean Chile for one. Dinner, next day ~ breakfast (on toast), lunch and dinner again. With liberal lashings of Kaitaia Fire (it's a sauce, Google it). Kinda like Valhalla but with a lip smacking cool farting aftertaste.
That’s nothing. You should try teaching a 5 year old about double dipping.