Fresh food is best, but let’s not get carried away!

Here it is again, the pasta kit with the note from my wife.
Here it is again, the pasta kit with the note from my wife.

After my last report, I know a lot of you a few of you are awaiting the results from my encounter with a six-year-old preackaged pasta meal, and while we probably won’t know anything definitively until this stuff percolates inside my gizzard for a few hours, it tastes delizioso!

Maybe you thought it unwise of me to even undertake this endeavor, but hey, I’m not STUPID! Of course I gave this stuff a visual inspection before eating it, and that’s why I had to alter the recipe slightly by leaving a couple of things out.

First, you should know that the chicken was not included in this kit, which was a good thing. I used a chicken breast from my freezer that had only been chilling for a few months, and was thus a real spring chicken when compared to the rest of the ingredients.

Next, I inspected the top of the box. Note the wording on the label:

Once I saw that the wording was "best by," I knew it would be okay!

Once I saw that the wording said “better by” instead of “call Hazmat if,” I knew everything would probably be okay.

While cooking my chicken according to the package directions, I opened the kit and inspected the contents. There were no suspicious bulges, or anything oozing from the packages, so I took that as a good sign:

Not much to see here, just a couple of foil pouches, one with seasoning, the other with cheese, along with a separate pouch of "creamy sauce," the pasta and the sun-dried tomatoes.
Not much to see here, just a couple of foil pouches, one with seasoning, the other with cheese, along with a separate pouch of “creamy sauce,” the pasta and the sun-dried tomatoes.

My water was boiling by now, and since the pasta looked fine, in it went. By now my chicken was clucking, and the instructions said to add 3/4 cup of milk and the seasoning pack.

The seasoning pack felt hard and lumpy, which was not a surprise. I easily broke it up with my fingers before tearing open the package and giving it a snort. It smelled a little like an antique shop that at some point had a leaky roof, but I detected no hint of spoilage. I mean, it’s a packet of seasoning, what could go wrong?

I added the milk and the seasoning to my chicken, and the kitchen filled with a scent that was probably not unlike sniffing a handful of dust bunnies from under the guest bed in King Tut’s tomb.

After cooking for a few minutes, I was ready to add the sun-dried tomatoes. I cut open the cellophane package and gave ’em a look, and it was a no-go. I mean, they probably would have been okay, but a few of the tomato dices had wispy hairs, like the prepubescent whiskers of a 12-year-old boy. Since the hairs were so fine, they didn’t show up on a photograph, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. I trashed ’em.

Next was the “creamy sauce.” I snipped open the foil package and started squeezing it into a bowl for a visual inspection. Oh hep me, Jesus!

No, I don't think so!
No, I don’t think so!

The creamy sauce came out looking like an unholy cross between peanut butter and baby shit, and I decided that my simmering chicken would not benefit from its inclusion. I suppressed a gag reflex as I squeezed it down the sink under a stream of hot water, which released its full aroma into my kitchen, but thankfully not into my food.

The pasta was done, so I drained it and stirred it into the chicken slop, along with the perfectly aged Parmesan and Romano cheeses. And voila, dinner is served:

Tasty chicken chunks with pasta and ancient spices. Yum!
Tasty chicken chunks with pasta and ancient spices. Yum!

Honestly, folks, it didn’t taste too bad, and I was left to imagine just how good it would have been if it had all the ingredients, and if I’d eaten it six years ago.

Bon Appétit!

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9 Comments

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  1. I was with you until you squeezed out the creamy sauce, although the hairy tomatoes almost called a halt to the proceedings. Best of luck with your GI tract.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. I will keep my fingers crossed that you are not carried away to the ER after this dubious culinary experiment! After reading this, however, my stomach is queasy and I will need to forgo my afternoon snack.

    Having been inside King Tut’s tomb I can assure you there are no dust bunnies 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

  3. What? This blog post isn’t from your bed at the hospital? I always view those “better by” or “eat by” dates as mere suggestions in life…kind of like stop signs and red lights when you are driving.

    Liked by 2 people

    • Ah, we think alike! That stuff was engineered with enough preservatives to sustain refugees of a Zombie Apocalypse. Just leave out the dicey bits, and you’re good to go!

      Liked by 1 person

      • I totally agree. My parents love to see how long they can hold onto food products as well. They have a cabin they use just in the summer but seem to think that leaving food in the fridge over that length of time is perfectly acceptable. I keep waiting for that faithful call from the morgue and the millions I’ll inherit! Well, not millions…

        Liked by 1 person

  4. No post today! Are you still alive??!

    Liked by 1 person

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