I am here to tell you NOTHING will test the strength of a marriage like the death of a major appliance. On Saturday morning we called the time of death of our much-loved and cherished dishwasher. A quick trip to the Good Guys found her replacement. But they would not take the old one away unless it was “unplumbed”. Mr. Woog, who is not a plumber, got about with his bag and his hat and his wrench and proceeded to flood the entire kitchen with fest, stagnant, food laced grey water. I used EVERY SINGLE TOWEL IN THE HOUSE to mop up the mess,
But the best was yet to come.
The new one turned up and while we let the kitchen dry out a bit, I handed him the instructions to install it, and he tossed it aside like yesterdays news.
What ensued was a very tense situation. He got into the space in the kitchen, tinkered around a bit before the taps kind of exploded, drenching my beloved, myself and everything else in the room.
“Grab some towels!” He yelled at me and I yelled back that there were none because they were all dripping on the line. With festy water. And then we said some very, very unpleasant and unwarranted things to each other before I stormed out. Oh what a wonderful Saturday we were having! AND to make it more interesting and tension filled, we were hosting a dinner that night for ten friends. Ten fun friends who love booze and food and we had no dishwasher.
So, so far you are reading along thinking to yourself “Why do I read this fucking stupid blog?” It is true. I tend to moan and whinge a lot. But it is what it is. But as a thank you for reading along everyday, I am going to reward you with the BEST EVER POTATO BAKE which was met with rapturous applause by our guests once we explained to them why we were not speaking to each other.
Grab about eight very large potatoes. I use pontiacs as I do not enjoy peeling potatoes. Grab the casserole dish that Aunty Margaret gave you as a wedding guest and pick off the dead bits of potato from the last time you used it. Spray the bottom of it with olive oil. Slice the potatoes into
HANG ON BEFORE YOU DO ANY OF THIS TURN THE OVEN ONTO 200DEGREES.
Slice the potatoes into uniform discs of about half a centimetre. Layer then into the dish. I am a fan of a large surface area because the top of the bake is premium real estate and you want to get as much of this as possible. Then grab a large carton of cream. Into the cream, crush three cloves of garlic and a teaspoon of chicken stock powder. Shake the shit out of it and pour over your potatoes. Season with salt and peps, over it tightly with foil and put it into the blisteringly hot over for an hour. Oh and also dot it with real butter for added debauchery.
During this hour, attempt to drink a series of different beverages such as champagne, gin and tonic and white wine. After an hour, remove the foil and cover it in tasty grated cheese and whack her back in for ten minutes until the top is golden and crispy and oh my lord.
Dinner went down a treat and as our guests left, I surveyed the kitchen. I had managed to use every single dish, plate, glass and utensils that I owned. And because The Good Guys are very good in selling faulty dishwashers, I got to spend my Sunday washing up. That potato bake dish nearly ended me. I continue to soak it as I type. I now await a phone call from Dishlex so we can spend a few hours “troubleshooting” the fucking dishwasher which is always a pleasant way to spend a Monday.
Should potatoes bake be our national dish?
What is something that triggers conflict at your joint?