In compliance with one of my New Year's demi-resolutions (making a random recipe once per week with my new cookware), I made dinner for Doug and me Thursday night: pasta pizza. Who knew that baking rotini, Parmesan cheese, an egg, and milk makes a suitable "crust"? This stuff was pretty good. It was like having all of the good parts of lasagne, none of the bad (onions, the occasional hard noodle).
Day one of the Vegas vacation resulted in me now having ghetto baggage:
The leg had been teetering on the edge of breaking for about two years now. It finally died on day one of the Harden Vegas Vacation.
I just can't have nice things.