Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Let's Talk Sauce

I once read a little ditty that went something like "You can put ranch dressing on dirt and a kid will eat it"...or something like that. I almost have to agree with that to a point. My boy loves some ketchup and ranch dressing. When I go grocery shopping, I automatically buy another ketchup bottle that will go to the top shelf in the pantry. I discovered a package of two incredibly huge bottles of Ranch Dressing at Sam's months ago. I didn't hesitate, my friends. I picked that two pack up and felt so superior as I walked away knowing I wouldn't have to buy ranch for a month.  I kid you not, that kid goes through some condiments. 

Here comes the bad part. He's so wasteful. See, my boy makes his very own Special Sauce. I'm going to share the recipe with you. It's ketchup and ranch mixed together. Large amounts. He has to get the ratio perfect (God bless his OCD heart) because if it isn't, he will keep pouring them separately until the mixture is right in his mind. I can't tell you how many times I have sat across from him at the dinner table and bit my tongue because he honestly doesn't care if he's wasting. The ratio has to be just right. I got to hand it to the kid, he does his level best to eat as much as he can, but more often than not, the supply beats demand hands down. 

Last week I was at Sam's doing my bi-weekly trip. My coffee K-cup supply was low. That can't happen in my world. Therefore, a trip was needed. As I was walking around planning meals in my head for the upcoming week and trying to remember if I had enough toaster strudels for The Boy for another week of breakfasts, I saw the  most incredible sight.

A six pack of squeeze bottles. Lovely, plastic, restaurant quality squeeze bottles. My mind jumped to the possibilities those bottles could provide my kitchen, my sanity, and my grocery bill.  When I saw these six bottles were under $5.00, why, I just couldn't put them in the cart fast enough. 

Such a simple plastic container. Oh, the possibilities.

When I got home, I had to do some thinking. What exactly was I going to put in these six lovely containers. When I started looking in the fridge, I realized there were way too many bottles of condiments to be legal. Makenna loves the barbecue sauce like The Boy loves the ketchup and ranch. There were, no lie, 4 bottles of BBQ sauce in the door. It was time to get busy.

I explained to my son what I was planning. You have to fully explain and give him all details. I wish I had gotten pictures, but he mixed up his own Special Sauce. I was not allowed to touch the process except to pour it in the bottle. He made two bowls and mixed and tasted and added more of this and a little of that until it was perfection upon his taste buds. 

The Man also has a special sauce he likes on fries. I'm pretty sure the fast food golden arches has a similar sauce they use on some burgers. I mixed it up, poured it in the bottle and made more room in my fridge. 

I put the standard plain ranch in one, and ketchup in another. I still have one bottle left to fill. Contemplating some Duke's mayo to simplify the sandwich making process in the future.

Voila! My life is made simpler, there's more room in the fridge, and hopefully the waste will not be as bad. 

Some of you are probably thinking why on earth would I blog about plastic bottles. Because it was so simple a solution and not expensive. 

Now if I could just get some of that white sauce from the Japanese restaurant........

Oh! Can I just put this out there? Are my children the only people on this planet that when it's time to clean the kitchen after supper, the condiments blend into the table cloth and disappear and never make it back to the refrigerator? Literally every time I walk back in the kitchen after they've "cleaned" it, there sits the condiments on the table, looking forlorn and forgotten. Drives me insane. Yeah, venting that didn't make me feel any better. Just reminds me that until they all move out, I will have to go behind them and put the stuff back in the fridge. Sigh.

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