So, in an attempt to amuse myself (and consequently distract myself from a fresh run in editing a short story) I made dinner for myself. Ok, so for a disabled person who needs assistants with a lot of stuff saying that he made dinner by himself is a bit of an oxymoron. Let me rephrase, I told my flatmate what to do and even got to stir. We made Honey Chicken, or a variation of it anyways.
Why, you ask?
Two reasons really; the first being it's dinner time, and secondly because once upon a time my brother made something similar. Intrigued, I begun thinking how he went about it and came up with my own concocktion. This was mixing five table spoons of honey, with three table spoons of melted butter, a quarter cup of milk and a stooped table spoon of bread crumbs or two and a sparking of mixed herbs, mix until thick and runny and dip your chicken it before plonking them and the leftover mixture into the frying pan. Mix it all up, and Alas it burned.
Back to the drawing board . . .
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