Wednesday, November 11, 2009

My father always said I had champagne tastes...

There I go acting like a rich person again.

I cook the salmon. I take it from the oven. I attempt to transfer it to a plate. I drop the nicely cooked tasty looking salmon on my very dirty kitchen floor. I take two minutes to decide that it really can't be salvaged. In case you're wondering, hot freshly cooked salmon kind of splatters when it hits the floor. Splatters and flakes and just generally falls apart. All the better to get maximum dirt and minimum chance of being rescued and eaten.

I should be writing poetry to poverty and the lost salmon.

6 comments:

TimT said...

Is that the same floor you spilled saffron on a while ago? That's some dang tasty grot you're cookin' up there.

TimT said...

Things that, over the years, have fallen on my floors:

Jar of saffron (it didn't break, it did roll into a rather inaccessible corner between stove and bench)
Toast
Crumpets
Spaghetti meal;, probably with mushroomy-saucy-thing

M L Jassy said...

Your salmon's plans to swim upstream foiled by the floor!

Shelley said...

Ah, yes, I remember that saffron, Tim. I had washed the floor at some point after that and I'm almost certain that the floor was clean, oh, a few months ago. Really must get round to cleaning it again - not just wiping up salmon slops.

Mitzy, funny that you should mention foil. I blame the foil for my dropping the salmon on the floor. Yes, definitely the foil's fault.

Armagny said...

Well, there's not normally any fibre in salmon, at least that would have been improved...

Shelley said...

Ah, yes, the fibre silver lining. Shouldn't Derryn Hinch pop up any moment now..?