Last weekend I went out to the country to hang out with M. and A.'s dogs Panda and Ella while they were in New York. I knew I wanted to cook myself some food, but I struggled to think of anything all that great. In the end I breaded and baked more chicken drumsticks than I could eat because I couldn't be bothered with dealing with left over raw meat.
The chicken turned out meh, which is what happens when you don't really have a good feeling or excitement about what you're doing. The side dish I made, on the other hand, was quite satisfying: brussels sprouts, leeks, a little bacon and mmmm, tasty time.
Panda and I lay by the fire for most of my stay. It was nice and warm and lovely. Even if I made crappy chicken.