Typicalifornian.

In the rush of having my first dinner party at my new place I fell into idiocy. Mind you, I have had guests for dinner/lunch but none more than three total. Sunday was the evening when I was going for the pentathelon. Five food-enthusiasts who really dig eating were coming to Disneyland (this new apt) to dine, and I was determined to dazzle. I have a small dining table off the kitchen area, so five fit well, six would be problematic. I planned the menu, I adjusted the menu for the f*cking vegetarian, bought wine, washed floors, and pulled down the fancy glasses. I set the table and set about the cooking process. I had my sous chef "Bubbles" arriving on sunday to assist in the full contact meal. Bubbles has been wanting to learn how to cook and I just love to talk, it seemed like a match made in heaven.



So on Saturday I head out to Smart and Final to buy a sheet pan to roast tomatoes on. I was going to make a roasted tomato sauce, similar to the one that I observed at the kitchen of the psychobitchfromhell (another story, another time). I've always wanted a sheet pan for this and other exciting culinary tasks, and by Giadda, I would have one. I travelled, I purchased, I returned home then conquering cook. I began prepping the tomatoes; halve, de-seed, season and toss. Mind you this was eight pounds of roma plums. Just when they were all nice nice in the herbs and oil, I remembered I hadn't.............washed the pan. And I did, as quick as a flash and threw down the pan I'd purchased with cash. The tomatoes fell in line, so cute, so charming unknownst to me, my psyche they'd be a-harming. I even snapped a picture, there could be nothing wrong. I opened the oven door to find my pan WAS TOO LONG!!!!!!!



I pushed, I turned and tried the other way, I even considered pan-american origami. I transfered the tom's to two smaller broiler pans and cursed my situation. Fie! Idiot of Idiotville, simp of Simpletown. The forgotten Village People singer, the mo mo. I didn't measure the oven, the pan, the door, the tomatoes, anything. J may have taken all the measuring tapes with him and I was at a loss. More so, I was at a gain, never again I would I follow a task so effortlessly without initial info that's so vital. Well, at least until the next time. The tomatoes look good, don't they? The sauce was epic.