
Chicken and Acetone
That got your attention, didn't it? Silly people, I don't mix chicken and acetone.
Much.
I'm beginning to think that my happiest times - or at least some of my very happiest times - are spent in the kitchen. (This may be a clue to my rather sub-optimally elastic waistline, but I shall diligently avoid thinking about that.) And, while most of my kitchen time is spent baking, I occasionally venture into the land of the savory and meatlike, too. Tonight, on a whim, I tried chicken paprikash, and it worked. BB and FB both liked it, so I'll add it to the "what I can whip up in an hour" supper dishes.
And in other, equally mundane, news. I've just discovered that I can taste acetone on my lips, hours after having used the stuff to remove 11 years of city sticker glue from the windshield of our new old car. The previous owners hadn't done that, and we wanted a fresh start for the newest sticker, one that wouldn't actually impede our view of the road. I kept the car door open whilst I did the work, and I put the open bottle of acetone (just fingernail polish-removing strength, not the kind one would find in a paint store) on the curb next to the car, not in the car with me, but apparently that wasn't enough to keep the fumes from settling on my skin. Interesting.
I didn't notice it until after supper, which either means that the chicken paprikash had the power to repel noisome chemicals, or it actually attracted the stuff to my lips.
And there you have it. Chicken. And Acetone.