“Pride cometh before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall.”
Well, I was so stinking proud of myself, I should have seen it coming. I had planned out a VERY budget friendly menu for the week. I had done a “perfect” shopping trip: I actually got everything I needed for the week, without missing anything. I stuck to the list, without the optional “write-in.” I used coupons. I hit sales. I was AMAZ-O-MOM!!!! I. I. I. It was all about ME. Saturday meal: perfect. Sunday: perfect. Monday: flawless. Tuesday: wonderful. Wednesday: uh….
I had put myself pretty high up on the pedestal for about half of the week. Wednesday’s scheduled meal was supposed to be slow cooked roast beef with brown gravy, onions, carrots, potatoes, buttermilk muffins, and a tossed salad. Sounds great. Especially considering I had high hopes for the leftovers to become Thursday’s meal.
So….about noon I decided it was time to put the roast in the crockpot so it wouldn’t be overdone by dinnertime. I went to the fridge and much to my surprise, there was NO roast. I know I bought one. I stood in the aisle for 10 minutes deciding on which one to get. (The smaller more expensive one or the HUGE cheaper one that was also marked down because it was close to date?) I found my receipt. Yup. I was right. I bought the roast. BUT where is it??? I looked in every nook and cranny of the crazy fridge. NOT there. period. By now, I was frustrated. I’ve already lost my keys today. and my purse. and the phone. and…. and… and. Then. it. hit. me. I bought the cheaper one. I had been sooooo proud of myself for that buy. I stuck it in the freezer to make sure it didn’t go bad. Well, now, isn’t this a pretty pickle? It was SOLID. It certainly won’t be overcooked.
I needed a plan B. In most cases, that would have been Thursday dinner. Whoops! Thursday is based on Wednesday’s leftovers!!! argh! Friday’s dinner, you ask? No can do. Fridays are special. We always have homemade pizza on Fridays. Saturday? No plan yet. I plan for Saturday to Friday. Sooooo…. Quick check of the pantry and fridge. Here’s what I came up with. Pigs in a blanket. carrots. left-over-from-four-days-ago hot dogs with mac & cheese. grapes.
So that’s what I did. I whipped it together. And went into dinner feeling defeated. No one likes steamed carrots. I didn’t even use butter. I learned my lesson. I will not be so prideful about menus again.
It turned out that after I learned my lesson, I got the good news. Buddy asked for thirds (and fourths, but we were out). Ben gave the carrots 5 stars (if you know him, that’s hard to do; loaded mocha brownies only got 4). The whole family commented that it was GREAT!!
Thankfully, God had been working on me enough to keep that pride from rising back up in me. I’m still humbled, however, I’m also thankful that I discovered a way to make “5-star” (according to Ben) carrots.
That said, here’s what I did.
Put 1/2 pound baby carrots (or regular carrots cut to about that size) into a pan that has a lid with about a 1/8″ water. Heat covered until the fire alarm goes off. (Not really, but mine did.) The goal here is to get the carrots soft. If and when the pan goes dry, add about a 1/4 cup water. Bring to a boil. Add 1/4 c. sugar, 1/4-1/2 t. rosemary, and 1/2 t. garlic powder. Continue to cook covered until they are soft enough to easily bite through. Serve hot.