Yesterday was "one of those days"--not to be confused with "that time of the month", which we don't get around here anymore.
Last night was my turn to help with refreshments for the Beth Moore Bible Study Class (Daniel). My instruction was to bring something "meaty." Way back when I agreed to do this (last week), I planned to make a nice cheese-and-sausage dip to serve with Frito Scoops. Well, naturally, I forgot until almost the last minute--way too late to worry about making something. So, says I, I'll run up to the grocery store and get some Sister Schubert sausage rolls (they're sooooo good). Two grocery stores and a Wal-Mart later, I decided there were no Sister Schubert sausage rolls to be had in this town. But in the freezer case at the last grocery store, I found these.
Now don't they look pretty, albeit nothing in the world like what came out of my oven.
I followed instructions to the letter. Heated the oven to 400, placed frozen items on ungreased cookie sheet, baked for 18-20 minutes. As I waited, I could just see myself waltzing into FUMC fellowship hall carrying a silver tray full of pastries that would put Martha Stewart herownself to shame.
So imagine my chagrin when I opened my oven door to those things that looked like the rejects from a high school home ec class. I could feel my face turning red and my knees beginning to shake. But there was no time to regroup and go to Plan B--heck, this was Plan C already! I'd just have to take the sorry looking things and go. Maybe I could sneak in with them, stick them on the table sereptitiously, and nobody would know who the culprit was.
So I tossed them into a plastic container and dashed out the door. When I got to the church, everyone was gathered 'round the refreshments already, so there was no sneaking these babes in. I just uncovered the things, put them on the table, and tried to retreat.
"Ooooooo! What are these?" people started asking before I could make my getaway. "They're pastries," I told them with a straight face.
Now I know that no less than half the attendees complimented me on these things and asked how I had made them. And, as far as I could tell, they sincerely liked them--which led me to taste one, and I gotta admit, they did taste pretty good. I finally confessed that I had not made them from scratch but had discovered them in the frozen foods section of the grocery store. They wanted to know the name and everything, which I couldn't remember at the time--I had blocked it out.
When I returned home carrying the plastic container with a few of the misshapen goodies in the bottom, Sophie accosted me and demanded a treat. "Here, girl," I said, plucking a "pastry" from the bowl. "Try this." She sniffed, curled her little lip up, and turned her head. This is what she does when I offer her something that she disdains to eat. "Well, they liked them," I said. Or did they?
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On 03/09/2007, Rian said ...
Great story! As I was reading it, I was thinking, "I'll bet they tasted pretty good." You can put just about any old thing in pastry and it will be tasty.
On 03/09/2007, Debra Spincic said ...
I thought maybe you were going to say they weren't meat at all but "phoney baloney", yaknow "faux meat" and that your friends didn't taste the difference!
Boy that Sophie is a snob. *wink*
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