I am not a great cook. I admit it. It is a shame because I watched my grandmother as a child growing up and unfortunately.. I didn't catch on to the southern measuring systems- a dash here, a smidge there, and a dollop is a gracious plenty. I try and I try. Pan after dirty pan - nothing spectacular. My family has adapted, if you want to call it that. They have activated the "ranch rescue" method. I have a house full of DIPPERS- A big dipper and two little ones. I feel as if it should bother me that they reach for the ranch before they even taste what has been set before them. ( sigh) I mean, I would NEVER serve them anything I wouldn't eat. Unfortunately for them I am not a picky eater.
So I make it a point to keep an ample supply of their condiment of choice on hand... I think it is better to eat a ranch covered spoon full of broccoli than not eating it at all... until today, I forgot to check the stockpile. Call it passive aggressive if you must, WE ARE OUT of ranch ( whoops).
Did I mention I am a kicking BAKER? Oh yes- I can make peanut butter fudge and brownies that will make you sing hallelujah... it's true!
SO I say... in light of this new development... Let them eat cake!
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