It was not lost on me that our Friday night was totally open, and available for The Pastor to visit. I am officially middle aged I suppose. I watch the weather, and I finally understand escrow.
I come from working, rural, simple peoples. The Pastor in question is from a religion I am familiar with.
So yesterday I was planning to try a new recipe for Moroccan Chicken. It has been cold, and it sounded sooooo good.
And then my Midwest brain kicked in:
*note* The Pastor was not coming for dinner, he was coming after dinner for cobbler and coffee.
AWTM Midwest brain: You cannot have a Pastor over after stewing Moroccan Chicken on the stove all day, it will SMELL like curry, saffron, wine and cinnamon. He will be certainly think we are communists, hippies, or heretics. Cook something that will smell like a normal Christian home. For Example a meatloaf, fried chicken, something uhhh...potluckish.
I am not kidding when I type the above, that was the conversation that went on in my
head. Something I should really not admit to. It proves I was raised in the rural, agrarian, Midwest from modest German/English/Dutch/French etc immigrants.
So I served my family a meatloaf for dinner last night, to make sure my home did not smell of exotic places, or foreign lands. SERIOUSLY.
The Pastor was very nice, he stayed for 2 hours. We like him. Turns out the guy is also a bit of a gourmet as well. I told him about my "chicken dilemma" and he seriously was leaned forward out of his chair laughing.
And he also requested me to bring my chicken curry to the next church pot luck.
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