Sep 29 2004
My mother, the ’shroom addict.
Tonight I made Chicken Breasts Chasseur for dinner.
After dinner, as was washing the dishes and Mom was putting away the leftovers, she looked at what was left of the chasseur sauce and asked if I really expected those mushrooms to still be there in the morning. “Whether you have that second chicken breast for lunch tomorrow or I do, I expect the sauce will still be there to cover it.”
One of the mushrooms “somehow escaped into (her) mouth” as she was putting them away, she declared.
Sigh. My mother. The ’shroom addict.