I waltzed around this morning puffing my chest out and muttering things in her direction, like: "I'm takin' you doooowwwwn". And..."You'll be sorry you ever took my challenge!"
UncleR's lemon chicken lasagna.
Jen's Italian-style lasagna.
Mine was clearly prettier. Clearly. Baked to perfection and bubbling away.
And then came the taste test.
Here's what I remember...I put a bite of UncleR's lemony goodness into my mouth and my eyes rolled back in my head in ecstasy. I had the uncontrollable urge to slap my mama, her lasagna was so good. Phrases such as: "You dirty girl!" and "Daaaaamn baby. This shit is delicious!" came tumbling out of my mouth in my food-induced climax.
I hurriedly finished my lasagna and saved hers for last on my plate. I told her it was because I was saving the best for last. And I meant it.
When it was time, I handed in my vote. I couldn't vote for myself.
UncleR handed in her vote. She voted for herself.
J came out of Big C's room where they had been eating together. I asked him which lasagna he liked the best. He replied: "My mom's". His answer was sweet, but I knew he had to be lying and must have been voting for me due to some sense of loyalty. I told him he needed to be honest. Told him he could vote for UncleR's if that was his fav. But, he insisted, that sweet, sweet, boy o' mine...that he liked mine the best.
I only had hope for a tie. And Big C's vote was up next. He agreed with UncleR and I.
And so, by a vote of 3-1, UncleR takes this year's lasagna throwdown. And you deserve it baby. Just remember who makes your pizza and baby back ribs.
Oh, and as I cleaned the kitchen tonight, I may or may not have licked the bottom of the pan that the lemony goodness was made in. You'll never know. I left no evidence.