It was one of the shortest interviews I've had, too - less than an hour. The interviewer practically started drooling when I told him the story about having to learn Visual Basic in two days. Things are looking up!
Matt and I went to the library yesterday, and on the way there, discussing possible plans for the rest of the evening, Matt said, "Let's call everyone and have them over for shells!"
This grew out of several things, not the least of which was probably that Matt wasn't in the mood for the meatloaf I'd pulled out of the freezer earlier. But it sounded like fun, so when we got home, we called Carl and Colleen (we decided last night to just call them the "Carleen" to make things less tongue-twister-y) and left a message on their answering machine, then Sara, who was home to locate Richard (who was - surprise! - at Sara's) and to ask them to pick up K.T., who was stuck at home without a car.
Matt and I trooped up to the store to buy ingredients. We decided we'd plan on feeding seven people, since we didn't know whether Carleen would call back, but it would be better to have leftovers than not enough food. Matt picked up the box of pasta shells, and looked at the Nutrition Facts table: One box was six servings.
Well, we reasoned, some of the people who were invited were big eaters, and (say it with me) it would be better to have leftovers than not enough. So we grabbed two boxes of shells, and using the recipe on the back of the box for cheese-stuffed shells, got the rest of the ingredients... Two jars of pasta sauce, four containers of ricotta cheese, one can of parmesan, two eight-ounce bags of shredded mozzerella, a half-dozen eggs... Spices, we had at home.
If you've never made stuffed shells before, let me tell you: stuffing the shells is a very messy job! But I was having fun, and we even got the stuffing and shells to work out pretty even, which is unusual for me - I almost always have lots of one or the other left over.
Partway into the second batch, I realized there was no way we had enough tomato sauce. Something you should know about me: As far as I'm concerned, pasta is merely a vehicle for moving tomato sauce into my mouth. I'd eat pasta sauce with a spoon if I thought I could get away with it. I have actually ordered pizza with extra sauce.
Matt poked around in the 'fridge and pulled out what we had for our own use - a larger bottle that was about half used. Not enough. I whined at him and he went back to the store for another bottle of sauce. And it's a good thing, too, because I had to finish off all three new bottles and our half-bottle before I felt satisfied with the amount of tomato sauce on these shells. (Don't look at me like that! We had two large baking pans and one small one, stuffed to the brim with shells!)
Richard arrived, followed not long after by Sara and K.T., who mocked him for not being able to follow them to the grocery store. Sara presented me with a pound and a half of hamburger to top the shells with, so I fried it all up with some garlic salt and a dash of pepper.
The Carleen unit still weren't answering their phone, so we decided to eat without them. I realized that it hadn't occurred to me to pick up any bread to serve with the shells. Richard volunteered to go to the store for some, and Matt (isn't he sweet) agreed to go with him to show him the way. They picked up two loaves of Italian bread, a bag of potato rolls, and some sodas. I slathered half of one loaf of bread with butter (well, okay, butter substitute) and garlic powder, and popped it in the oven for a few minutes while we started on the shells themselves.
The five of us finished off one large pan of shells, and about half the small pan. (The rest went into the 'fridge and freezer for future meals!) And most of a loaf of garlic bread.
Carleen called around 9:30, and showed up just after Sara went home. K.T. and Richard left around 10, and Carleen and Matt and I sat around for a while, chatting and showing them movies on the computer and finishing off the last of the garlic bread.
We got to bed late, but it was a fun evening.
I keep losing things. I begin to wonder if our house is infected with Borrowers.
When I was putting the books on the shelves after the move, I realized I was missing my hardback, leather-bound edition of Dumas' The Three Musketteers and Twenty Years After. Saturday before we went to K.T.'s, I realized I was missing the first tape in the Red Dwarf T.V. series. I must have loaned these things to people and forgotten about it, but I don't remember doing so, and I have no idea who I might have loaned them to or where to start looking.
Hmph.
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