Now place him in front of a grill and that's another story.
But we don't have a grill.
So I'm out of luck.
Once a week or so though, Ian attempts dinner anyways. And it usually turns out pretty good.
This week however, it was a different story.
He made what should have been a delicious spaghetti and meat marinara dinner. It smelled amazing.
The taste? Not so great.
But I thought it was just my weird pregnant sense of taste.
Ian thought it tasted weird too.
He dashed into the kitchen and came back crestfallen.
Apparently, when stocking up on ground beef in the big city (our beef on this side of the border is no good,) he picked up ground lamb instead of ground beef.
And lamb pretty much tastes like it smells when alive.
Like wet and dirty wool.
And we had doubled the recipe so that we could freeze some for later in pregnancy/after the baby arrives.
We still put it in the freezer, but I have no intentions of eating it.
At least the noodles were good.
At least it's the thought that counts, right?
And at least we only have 3 more pounds of it to work through.