Last night I made a real down home dinner. No capers, no splash of burgundy wine sauce, no half-shells, no hints of saffron, not even a melange, nothing balsamic, no endives, and not even a hint of jus.
I made a meatloaf, cheesy potatoes, green beans, and biscuits.
I saw everything I made, and I saw that it was good.
So I eated it.