Over the weekend, my husband had invited a new friend of his and his wife over for dinner. I’d never met this person, so it would be a first introduction kind of thing.

Now, I pride myself on being a pretty decent cook. Nothing fancy, like Martha Stewart, 900 ingredients cooking, but decent, homemade stuff that is rather tasty and delicious.

I wanted to make spaghetti and meatballs. I know, it sounds rather goofy and simple. But this is homemade from start to finish. And absolutely delicious.  The meatballs in the sauce are just divine. And it was not supposed some fancy thing, just a comfortable friend thing.

I made a vat of it. I mean, this huge huge pot of it. Chopped all the onions, added the garlic and all the other spices, sugar, a little salt, etc. Then, I had to bring this big huge pot o’ stuff to a boil. I turned up the heat on the stove to about medium….

And then my husband walked in.

“Come here,” he said, “I want to show you something.”

Stupid me, I followed him into the living room where we started to have a discussion about a bay window that needs replacing.

Suddenly, it was 30 minutes later, and there was smoke in my kitchen! I had burned the sauce.

Something I’d never done…ever.

I tasted it, hoping it was just a momentary blip. But, no, it was too late. It tasted like tomato sauce mixed with charcoal. 2 pounds of ground chuck down the tubes. All that delightful tomato-y goodness, ruined.
And our guests were going to be there in about 15 minutes. Too late to start over. Plus, I didn’t have the heart to try again.

Our solution? Pizza.

Yes, we ordered 3 pizzas. Some dinner.

Next time, I will not leave the sauce unattended. Not even for the spouse.