It’s so cold that there is no moisture in the air anymore. Everything is drying up and freaking out. I live in fear of the inevitable bloody nose, my hands appear to have aged 75 years in the last week, my hair is static-y and clinging to my face and neck which is making me want to just hack it all off with a knife, and the snow makes this annoying squeaky-squeaky sound when one steps on it.
That’s how cold it is.
I am pretty much done with winter, thank you.
Oh, and the vegan bechamel sauce? Right. The other night I had a taste for pasta with leftover vegan sausage (it tastes amazing and very much like sausage, because sausage tastes like spices), and thought I’d make a white sauce to go over it. In my mind it was going to be a lot like biscuits-and-gravy, a very savory white sauce full of pepper and goodness.
Did I go to the computer and look up “vegan white sauce” or “vegan biscuits and gravy”? Of course I didn’t, for I was feeling cocky and oh-so-capable and full of my ability to MAKE FOOD OUT OF NOTHING! So I just grabbed a non-vegan cookbook full of pasta sauce recipes, found one that resembled the concoction in my brain, pulled out my vegan ingredients, and went at it.
My first red flag should have been the quantities called for. Six tablespoons of butter (I used Earth Balance… mmm)? Some flour… three cups of milk (soy milk)? All this wasn’t really necessary — it was just Nick and me. Did I stop and reconsider? Of course I didn’t, for I was feeling cocky, etc. It was only after I’d added everything together and tasted it that I realized what was certainly obvious to Nick (who was humoring me in the cutest way): it was wrong on many, many levels, not the least of which was the fact that it tasted like a damn sugar cookie.
We had marinara with our pasta and sausages that night.