Sometimes trying new things works out well. You meet new people despite your growing certainty you have more than enough friends. The dress in the fitting room does not make you look like Mary Ellen Walton despite its appearance on the hanger.
Sometimes trying new things makes you think of all the variations you could try with said new things. Like spaghetti bread. After all, that seemingly kooky recipe was tasty and provided several days of lunches. The possibilities of what to encase in bread dough are endless. Right?
No, not really. Not if you’re me at any rate. I give you …
The theory was sound: mozzarella cheese, crumbled blue cheese, Ken’s Steakhouse Marinade Buffalo Sauce. It should have been amazing.
It was not.
Perhaps it was excess buffalo sauce. Perhaps it was the rolling out of the bread dough while on the phone. Maybe I used too much or too thick cheese. Maybe I shouldn’t have stayed on the phone, cradling it between ear and right shoulder while trying to assemble the whole thing and then braid the bread over the concoction.
Perhaps one should not mess with the spaghetti bread recipe.
It didn’t taste … bad, but it didn’t taste great. I had one piece, and the rest will be entombed in a thin plastic casket in a landfill for future archaeologists to uncover and make absurd assumptions about our society. I’m sorry for what they will think of all of us.
Even as I dumped the thing into the trash can, my mind thought of trying it again – this time with crescent rolls and much less sauce and cheese. What do you think?