kruizing with kikukat

Monday, December 15, 2014

Divine Red Sauce

I have been unbelievably busy.  I'm glad this is the last week before vacation begins.  Warning:  this post was written by someone in a really bad mood.  If you aren't ready to read profanity, stop here and scroll all the way to the bottom for a great recipe for spaghetti sauce.  I will not be allowing any comments which attack my candidness. . .you were adequately warned.  If you want to join my misery, then feel free to read on. 

I spent last weekend baking orange pound cake, a version I adapted based on the Barefoot Contessa recipe.  I made enough mini loaves to give all of my resource team buddies.  They are a joy to work with, and I appreciate the opportunity to be a part of that group.  Its like being back at the resource office without the bullshit of middle management.  I made sure to send large, tribute versions of the cake to the office staff, security, and custodians.  Only the custodians thanked me (as of this post).

As I was giving a loaf to one of my work pals, this vile student asked me, "what kine bread dat?"  I told him it was orange pound cake.  He said, "I like one."  He repeated himself several times.  Each time I said no, and I finally told him that if he asks me again, I will deem it  harrassment.  Where the fuck does he get off expecting something from me?  Ever since last year, he has been such an asshole.  When he leaves the room, the other students immediately complain about him.  They say he is irritating.  They are right.  He cannot sit still.  He also cannot keep his fingers to himself.  I had football pics on my board with a sign saying "do not touch the pictures", and yet he touched the pics.  I asked him what part of "do not touch the pictures" did he not understand.  The other week, when I asked him to sit down, I happened to turn around and he was mouthing the f-word at me.  And he expects me to just give him cake.  Talk about delusional.  He has a nice girlfriend, and God knows what she sees in him.  Her parents are nice people, and they would be terribly disappointed if they saw what her boyfriend was really like.  Why do nice girls like these awful, dumbass guys?

Sometimes I wonder from where these students get their entitlement attitude.  Another student, who was an absolute jerk to me all last year, asked me to borrow a quarter.  Never!!!  I will not loan a cent to anyone who is not respectful.  And he didn't get cake either!  Then there are those students who seem alright but then do something to make you scratch your head.  Last week, I offered instant noodles to my was the end of the day, and I was cleaning out some things from my room.  A few students accepted with gratitude.  The next day, this one asswipe, saw the box on my desk and proceeded to help himself because he was hungry.  WTF?!?  One nice gesture from me, and he assumed it was okay to help himself the next day.  Ridiculous!  Where do these kids learn manners?

And since I'm in a friggin nasty mood (and my recent posts have been utterly sanitized), let me go on to say that in the past week, two bitches really deserved slaps from me.  Both times, the commenters were condescending as hell.  But I took the high road and refrained from pointing out to both of them that they ain't foolin' anyone...both have kids who are so far from center and fall under the socially handicapped category.  I feel for these two as parents, but when they pretend as if nothing is the matter, they become part of the problem.  My own kids are far from perfect, and I do not hold back when they need to be corrected.  It's better if they hear it from me and have the opportunity to adjust their actions. 

So given my nasty disposition, I'm in no mood to cook a fancy dinner.  I think I'm especially irritable because last week was filled with concert, family in town, workshops...just a whole bunch of stuff.  Perhaps if I was in a better mood, I would have taken the time to dress this up with some meatballs, but because I'm not, I just made the sauce.  The sauce was good, and believe it or not, nobody grumbled about having a meatless dinner!

And in case some deaf people didn't hear me when they asked, I don't know where D1 is going to college, but I do know she did her own work.  Oh, and by the day, when you're teaching your kids some manners, teach your hubby some manners too!

I hope to return to my normal, cheery self by next week.  I think the nastiness should be out of my system by then.
click on recipe title for printable recipe

     3 tbsp olive oil
     1 giant jar (45 oz) Ragu spaghetti sauce (Costco)
     7 oz red wine
     3 1/2 tbsp brown sugar

Heat olive oil in a large saucepan.  Add Ragu, wine and brown sugar.  Stir and heat.  Serve over cooked "strand" pasta.  Garnish with parmesan cheese.

If you are using a "supermarket" size jar of spaghetti sauce (24-28 oz), use 2 tbsp olive oil, 1/2 c red wine and 2 tbsp brown sugar.

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