I had been hungry for Boudin all week long, and finally, yesterday I had gotten them out of the freezer. A box of hot jalapeno Boudin for they guys and another box of regular Boudin for the ladies. I was careful when I opened the packages, made sure I didn’t mix them up, even used different plates when I thawed them.
In the evening I put water in a pot and arranged the sausages in the steamer. On one side the hot ones, the regular ones on the opposite side -easy enough to remember.
About 15 minutes later the sausages were steaming, and the smell brought my husband into the kitchen. I stood at the stove and stared at the pot.
“Is everything alright?” he asked, and I didn’t say much.
“Yep,” I replied and without looking up.
“It smells delicious, are they almost ready?” my husband wanted to know, and again I didn’t look up and didn’t say much.
“Yep.” (Nothing would take my concentration of the steaming sausages.)
My husband joined me at the stove, now we both stared at the sausages.
“So, which ones are which?” the love of my life asked.
“Well,” I started slowly, “Your guess is as good as mine.”
Hubby looked at me in disbelief.
“Life’s a bitch I am telling you,” I sighed and he busted out laughing.
It happened yesterday. For the life of me, I couldn’t remember which ones I put on which sides. I can be such a bubble head and aging is not helping my case.