I put together a vegetable stir fry for dinner with some Szechuan overtones. Bleh. It looked good. It smelled fine. But bleh. Healthy but bleh.
One of the frustrations of cooking, heck-maybe life in general, is that bleh sometimes takes just as much work as great and there is no predicting the result.
Philosophers would say that we would not appreciate great without the occasional blah. If that is the case, there was a purpose for tonight’s meal. Otherwise, fellow cooks, commiserate with me. Bleh.
At least, offsetting the blah meal, I had made lemon cream puffs. Refreshing.