Today was a fun day.

It started out with me dropping Victor off at the train so he could travel up to NYC for the day.  Since I was already in Paoli, I continued along Lancaster Avenue to Malvern – and the newest Wegmans in the neighborhood.

Great store – really shitty entrance, parking lot, and exit.  The designers really had their heads placed firmly where the sun don’t shine.  There is nothing logical or intuitive or the least bit instinctive about it.  It’s almost annoying enough to travel the extra time to Collegeville.  I need to make one trip down the freeway to see if it’s an easier trip.  Crazy.

But I did get our shopping done, did a bit more running around, and then worked on a couple of websites for most of the day.

I’m actually teaching myself Joomla – a content management system – for a friend of mine who is a travel writer.  I’m thinking that it may be a good program for our family website, too. Later.

So…  Since Victor didn’t get home until 7:30pm and I spent the day doing everything except being in the kitchen, it was burgers and fries for dinner.

Little ciabatta rolls for buns, lots of cheese, pickles, onions, tomatoes…  A sloppy, gooey mess.

Perfect.

And I’m actually off for the next two days.  Ribs and baked beans tomorrow and I need to think of something fun for my birthday on Wednesday…

Hmmm…  maybe veal scallopini and pineapple cream pie!  That was my childhood birthday dinner.  It was the one time we actually got to request a specific meal.

My mom actually made a beef marsala – veal for 6 kids was unheard of.

And speaking of… when I was older and living on my own, I asked her for the scallopini recipe.  She gave it to me and I made it a couple of times, but it was never quite like hers.

I’ve always been notorious for not following recipes, but I followed hers exact – but it just wasn’t the same.

And then I found out why.

She left out an ingredient.  A bit of sage.

My own mother purposely left out an ingredient so mine wouldn’t be as good as hers. I was shocked!

Of course I had to call her on it.

She stammered, turned every shade of red imaginable – and denied it.  DENIED IT!  Like guilt wasn’t written all over her stammering blushing face.

Over the following 30 or so years, I’d bring it up every now and again just to see her squirm and turn red, again. It was always good for a few laughs.

Of course I’ve lost that recipe over the years  and it never made it into her cook books because of the fraud she conferred upon us, so I’ll make a close approximation – with sage over extra wide egg noodles.

And laugh once again at the best mom in the world.

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