Ernie and I watched the CMT awards last and for better or worse rather enjoyed it. I mean, there was some godawful stuff but there was some that I didn’t mind. Ernie became somewhat obsessed with Jelly Roll and at one point was heard yelling, “My man, Roll.” Of course there was much that was confusing too. Why was Alanis Morisette there? Why did Gwen Stefani perform? Why was Megan Thee Stallion there? Why did Carrie Underwood choose heels with hot pants? Why so many hot pants? Why did Shania Twain wear purple hot pants that looked slightly too big on her? For some reason I worry about Shania Twain. She seems slightly….just off. Why so many truck references? It’s like beams on HGTV. Why can’t Wynonna dial back on the orange (she looked great otherwise) and why was she singing a Foreigner song? Why, why, why? There’s much more but it gets confusing because we didn’t really know who anybody was. Gary Clark Jr. sounded good. Keith Urban sounded good. There were a couple of songs I liked ok but damned if I know what they were. It was just an amusing, sometimes entertaining mess.
We did our standard award show food: chicken wings—the recipe for baked (but crispy) wings from Serious Eats. Such a good recipe and so simple that you can’t screw it up, right? Uh, no. I also steamed some broccoli florets and made a weird dipping sauce for that and the wings. The wings have to be prepped ahead of time. Ernie did it while I was still in bed reading that morning.
The wings looked somewhat pale on the plate. Hmmmm. I took a bite of the first one and almost choked on all the salt. Tried another and it was ok. Tried another bite and had to spit it out. I kept quizzing Ernie on amounts he’d used, etc. After quite a while he mentioned that there hadn’t been enough of the baking powder/salt mixture so he’d added more.
Ahhhhhh. As with all confusion or mistakes, we just blame it on his treatment, which is handy. Cancer brain!
The extra salt and baking powder made the wings not only WAY too salty but bitter. They were amazingly awful. AMAZINGLY AWFUL. I couldn’t even eat much of the broccoli because my mouth felt like a desiccated hole. I shuddered and drank some wine. That’s right about when Ernie yelled, “My man, Roll.”
In other news:
We did asparagus pasta again but I think I’m getting pasta’d out.
Top photo: random living room shot. My mother bought that little church about a million years ago from Mae Boltman up in Rochelle, Illinois.. We used to have a tiny little wreath we’d put over the door at Christmas but I think it fell apart. For a fascinating life story check this out. Damn. That lampshade is crooked. Lampshades…