Last night, Larry and I had corned beef for dinner. This was leftovers from the night before. Larry had been feeling all Irishy and thought he might cook for the holiday.
Larry had put the corned beef in the crock pot to cook it. Luckily, there was no explosion, but it didn't come out the way he had planned. It was a little tough and stringy. I didn't say anything, because who am I to judge someone else's cooking?
As we sat at the table, Larry remarked that the food was disappointing.
"Yeah, it sucks," I joked.
Larry quipped, "Oh, yeah, like your garlic pudding?"
This was a direct slam at my tzatziki sauce from last week. I followed an online recipe and maybe overdid it with the garlic. (4 to 10 garlic cloves? I guess 8 should do it, then)
"Jerk. Well, it's better than...salty shoelaces!" I said, sticking my fork into the meat on my plate and grimacing.
It's only a matter of time before one of us dies at the dinner table.