I made a Chicken Pot Pie. It's this recipe, pretty much, except that I make my own "bisquick" and I used the meat from a rotisserie chicken and canned vegetables instead of frozen so the color doesn't pop as much as I'd like. BUT! Sugar Daddy will eat the shit out of it because of those colorless canned veggies. (If there's anything I've learned from Jenny Lawson it's that you have to pick your battles, right?)
Here it is just after it came out of the oven all good-smelling and bubbly and yummy-looking. It really was, but the picture didn't capture the good-smelling, bubbly-yumminess because this camera sucks.
|Please imagine the good-smelling, bubbly-yumminess|
that would have been captured by a better camera.
A close-up of the inside of the pie for Mister DeMille:
|Om nom nommiful!|
Here it is as I served it with a Caesar Salad and called it a night. Voila!
And here it is after it was masticated, digested and sent back out into the world:
|Just kidding! It's only Potsie.|
You were disappointed, weren't you? Nasty pervs.