Princess Tears

I didn't know it was possible, but I made the kitty cry. I didn't know kitties cried. [I wish I'd thought to take a picture, it would have been excellent fodder for one of those Demotivator posters from despair.com.] Picture beatiful Disney Princess kitty perched on the futon with giant crystalline tears clinging to her lower lash line. Poor beautiful tormented kitty.

You see, like many of my friends, lately I have been pricked by desires for Food of My Peoples. One friend has been whipping up Corned Beef and Cabbage and Colcannon on a weekly basis. Monks has been Desifying meatloaf. Other friends have been dipping into their own culinary heritages. At my house, Food of My Peoples includes the classic Austra-Hungarian dish Beef Paprikash. It's a simple dish comprised of nothing more than stewed onions flavored with copious amounts of paprika and a few chunks of stew meat for chew.

I doubt the chopped sirloin caused the problem. No, I think it was the four finely chopped onions that sizzled in the casserole that were to blame. Tears ran down my face as I washed the dishes while the onions were cooking on the stove. When I came into the living room to check email before heading out, I reached over to pet the kitty. That's when I noticed the tears.

I promptly opened all the doors to let in the sweet smell of rain-drenched earth, and to let out the sharp oniony fumes. Kitty sat in the doorway for a while. I left a kitchen window open all afternoon as the stew slowly cooked in the dutch overn. 6 hours later, the paprikash still has a pronounced oniony bite.

I have to find something else to eat for dinner now, because if I eat that the night before the MPRE my fellow exam takers are going to lynch me at the break.

And on that note, I'd best get back to assuring myself that I have adequately memorized the rules.