Yesterday I tried to get away with some fru-fru food for dinner. Teriyaki burgers with mango pineapple salsa. I had some ripe mangoes and a fresh pineapple; why not give it a go?
Because I'm married to a manly man, that's why not. With the notable exception of pineapple ham pizza, fruit belongs in desserts and meat belongs in... meat.
Suspiciously eyeing the mango pineapple salsa: "What do you do with this stuff?"
"You put it on the burger."
"To eat?"
"That's the idea."
I thought it was pretty good, actually. It wasn't a "let's eat this every week," but it was a "nice Summery meal."
My darling, on the other hand, ate with the same resigned look on his face as when my niece put a flower ribbon in his hair. Of course he would never complain!
"The buns and meat are really good. And I like mangoes." (There's a non-sequitur for you).
Thankfully there was pumpkin roll for dessert.
