When the King’s Away…

June 10, 2012

in After The Honeymoon, Headliners, Sound Bites, Vegetarian-Ish

When you get married, you learn to compromise. If he can’t eat, sit, or sleep with his back to the door because he believes a band of ninjas will be barging in any minute without so much as a knock, and you can’t eat, sit, or sleep with an arsenal that would have resulted in the Confederacy winning the War Between The States within arms reach, you compromise. He gets “your” side of the table/couch/bed. And you get to put the machete in the back of the closet.

And if you can’t sleep in what is literally one of the safest towns in America knowing a window, door or mouse hole might be unlocked, thus allowing the boogey man access to your sleeping children, you compromise. You get to booby-trap double lock the doors each and every day. And if you forget? He gets to lie and say he did it for you.

And while ya’ll may not have to compromise on your own personal conspiracy theories, I know there’s at least one place you do “compromise”….

The Kitchen.

And I’m not just talking about who does the dishes

It’s inevitable. He hates asparagus. And liver. And brussel sprouts. And steak. And soup. And portobella mushrooms.

You hate lunchables. And coconut. And brussel sprouts. And the idea, if not the actual experience, of pecan pie in all its corn-syrupy glory.

So you compromise.

He cooks you steak and asparagus, once a year, on your birthday. If you remind him.

And you bake him pecan pie, once a year, for Thanksgiving. And then shut your eyes tight and eat as much of it as you possibly can before remembering you just poured half a bottle of corn-syrup into it.

And you live without the brussel sprouts.

As for the rest of it?

Well, baby, that’s what business trips are for.

That isn’t to say I don’t enjoy sharing my daily life with the Big Man, including our nightly family dinners (which, as the Little Man well knows, aren’t done until the foods gone and Mama’s finally stopped talking).  They’re my goal post at the end of each day. And not just because they’re immediately followed by bath, bed, and “me” time.

But, every once in a while, I like to mix it up.

Hence, the business trips.

The Big Man gets to go enjoy as much Subway as his heart can handle in a quiet hotel room with internet, cable, a private bath, and whichever side of the bed will give him the strategic advantage should the ninjas arrive unannounced.

And I get to eat.

Asparagus. Pizza. Hummus. Mac & Cheese. Shortbread cookies with chocolate fudge icing on top. Asparagus. Just the fudge icing from the shortbread cookies. Philly Cheesesteaks. Portobella mushrooms. If it’s something I’d either have to hear about while I ate it, eat it alone, or share, I save it for his business trips.

I’d been planning for his latest one for weeks.

We had pizza. We had ice cream. We had cheese fries with sour cream and bacon.

And then? We had these:

Portobello Pizza Bites
Dish: Entree, Appetizer, Potluck
Prep time: 
Cook time: 
Total time: 
Feeds: 4
  • 12 Baby Portobello Mushrooms
  • ½cup Foolproof Spaghetti Sauce
  • 6tsp Shredded Mozzarella
  • ¼cup Shredded Parmesan, Asiago, and Romano Cheeses
  • 12 Pepperoni Slices
  1. Preheat oven to 400F.
  2. Gently clean and remove stem from each of the portobello mushrooms.
  3. On an aluminium foil-covered rimmed baking sheet (or shallow baking dish), bake mushroom caps for 7minutes.
  4. After baking, remove and turn oven to broil.
  5. Using a paper towel, gently blot the inside of each mushroom to remove as much of the juice as possible.
  6. Fill each mushroom cap with 2tsp of Foolproof Spaghetti Sauce, then top with 1tsp of shredded Parmesan (or parm blend), and ½tsp of Mozzarella.
  7. Top each mushroom cap with one pepperoni slice, then broil in oven for 3-5min, until cheese is melted.
Just remember - even if you convince the kid's you're just having pizza for dinner, He'll still smell the portobello on your breath....



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