Read the directions Amanda. Before writing the menu in ink, consult the recipe and directions. I had no idea the freaking lentil soup that I was serving ala the Grand Dame of Everything Spectacular in House and Home Miz Martha Stewart herself in a baked half squash, needed to be blended. Our hand mixer died last Thanksgiving and our blender is missing its lid. Of course we have the plastic thing from the lid that you open to drop things in, but no lid. Too late to go back. I took out a box of Saran Wrap…WTF with the metal strip onthe side for ripping the plastic? They’ve been making this stuff for what, 50 years? And they still can’t make something that actually rips it? After 3 tries at ripping off a piece and two nasty scrapes from trying to force it, I managed to fashion a lid for the blender.
Ice crusher…does it make a difference?

Time to pour it back in the pot to mix in the lentils Note to Healthier You cookbook editors, the recipe on page 74 so does not take 15 minutes to prepare.
It’s stuck. Too much was staying on the sides, so I retrieved the kick ass orange spatula we received from Dave and Liz for our wedding – LOVE IT! – and started to scrape.
Damnit. It’s stuck.
Lentil-less soup smegma smacks my forehead and douses my hairline as the kick ass William Sonoma spatula handle comes whizzing out of the blender while the spatula portion (the coolest part if you ask me) stays in the blender, rendered totally ineffective by one of the blades.

Despite referring to it as smegma, and its general appearance of vomit, the soup was awesome. The recipe, with the caveat regarding actual time required to prepare, is a keeper.

The blender, however, is not.

All ended well, and our guests had no idea anything was amiss as I managed , in effortless (Ha!) Martha style, to return the scene of the crime to a prisitine state. Well as pristine a state as our old kitchen can look. Please note the “Everlasting” floral arrangement in the corner, courtesy of Domesticity Doyenne in training, Miz Briar.