Untold years ago we were bequeathed -- and I use the word carefully -- a can of salmon. Just a can of Bumble Bee salmon. You'd've thought it was gold.
Two weeks ago I finally decided it was time to use the thing, but I frankly had no idea what one does with a can of salmon. After careful consideration and perusal of many cookbooks, I decided on salmon loaf. I figured if America lived on it in the 1930s and 1940s, it must have something going for it.
I was wrong. The stuff is vile. Our cat, however, adores it, and I've been using the leftovers (i.e., nearly all of the pan's worth; Notarius and I each ate one slice and that was that) to give our beloved cat his thyroid medication.
The cat looooooves his salmon loaf. I can't believe I'm even thinking this, but it may be that when he finishes this salmon loaf, I might have to buy another can of this shit just so he can have it. He's old. He deserves this godawful stuff, if it makes him happy.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
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