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I have come to find out that I am a very well intentioned person. From the meals I plan, to the sprawling to-do lists I make in my head. This trait carries over into my cooking as I strive to understand the magical role food plays in New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day traditions.

For New Year’s Eve last night I decided to make Corned Beef Hash. Having never made this meal before, I knew it was the perfect one to make on a night deemed so extra special by society’s standards. After accidentally “simmering” the meat in the pot on low for 2 hours, I was worried my already Easter Egg pink meat was destined to poison me. After missing our scheduled dinner time by 2 hours, I decided to take on the hash part of the dish. I won’t fail to mention that I took the word HASH literally and bought a mammoth bag of Ore-Ida Hash Browns to smash my either under or overcooked corned beef into. Those hash browns never really got that nice brown color. They never turned any color other than frozen. My good luck meal was utterly doomed.

Lets just say, we were pushing 9PM and the concoction was pretty much unpalatable.

We rang in the New Year with a big round bowl of buttery salty popcorn.

And I considered that pretty lucky.

This morning, in the span of 10 minutes, the toddler required a quick dunk in the bathtub, and a garbage bag nearly exploded all over me as I ran it to the garbage can in the garage while trying to avoid being followed by a certain speedy toddler. Lastly, I forgot to add coffee to the coffee maker when I fixed my husband’s daily cup of coffee this morning. (It still produced a somewhat satisfying shade of coffee colored murk, though.) Who does all that? I feared that perhaps I needed a different kind of lucky meal for today. A genuinely serendipitous one.

Because I am a very well intentioned person, I got my act together for dinner early on today.

Cherry Cornish Hen.

Into the crock pot it went a few minutes before 11AM. We ran some errands and were looking for a late lunch option. We turned down a road we don’t normally travel, about 10 minutes off our normal route, Friendly’s!

Friendly’s. The epitome of auspicious meals.

When we walked in, eyeing the freezer with all of the to-go treats, toddler thoughtfully read the words: Ice Cream Cake. (Yes, said toddler can read. And spell. But that’s a whole other blog post.) And that’s just what he got. Ice Cream. And then we ordered our meals, and we too indulged in ice cream. (That’s twice this week, goodness!) Who says dessert before a main course is a bad idea?

Well, of course it’s a bad idea. But, in the interest of luck and the importance of New Year’s traditions …

Needless to say, we didn’t eat the hens tonight. Nothing is luckier than watching your 2 year old carefully spoon ice cream into his mouth when you know he really shouldn’t. It’s fun. But not for every day. For days like New Year’s. A strange day where the mood of the year is determined by the food you eat on an arbitrary day. And finding a random Friendly’s when you’re looking for a late lunch stop is about as lucky as you can get in my book.

A lot more fun than spending 5 hours making an inedible Corned Beef Hash.

Kel

Kel

grim reaper of the internet

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