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The night this dish was made, I was lucky enough to have a guest co-blogger.  I’m talking about a real chef, someone who has actually been cooking and baking for way longer than us!

Granted, I once pulled an entire carrot (stem attached) from my mouth after biting into her vegan carrot birthday cake… And gagged on a lemon seed after she “got a little lazy” grating lemon for a lemon pie… But those things aside, Edith is a real chef!

Okay, even if she’s not a real chef – she’s brilliant, hysterical, and another set of hands.  And my best friend in California.  So, she’s co-posting and co-cooking with me this evening!

It’s really hard to get Edith to pose for a picture:

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She basically only does it when wearing mustaches:Edith Laura

Tonight Edith and I are making this Roasted Potato Salad with Asparagus and Lentils from the Oh She Glows website as my Lunch Club dish to serve tomorrow.  I’m planning on doubling it and/or making the proportions up.  More on that in a bit.

Edith is the best chopper!  I don’t know who make up that “too many cooks in the kitchen” phrase, but they definitely must not cry as hard as I do when cutting onions.  I welcome anyone into my kitchen who will cut an onion or do dishes for me.

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Guess what this recipe calls for?  You guessed it.  Parchment paper!  I am so glad I finally broke down and got some.  Edith and I are discussing the burnt edges from last time and she explains that parchment paper is actually flammable.  Which makes me super confused, because why would we be instructed to put that in the oven all the time?

Also, I can’t say flammable and keep saying “flannel-ble.” I think I’ve been around my hipster bromates too much.

Or maybe I’ve had too much wine.

After I typed this much of the post, Boots joined us and we basically downed the rest of our bottle of wine, and then another half bottle, between the three of us.  Edith stopped being my co-blogger because she landed on the floor and stayed there:

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So basically, the rest of this post is going to be some highlights and quotes of what followed, and blurry pictures:

Me: Do you think the potatoes are done?
Edith: Put it in your mouth and see how it feels!
Boots: That’s what she said.

Edith types this:
No mames Boots porque no tienes wine.

And this, after I decide there might not be enough food to serve five people:
Bruseeellls sprouts? Why not? MOAR salad.

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By that she meant: I thought I had two packages of asparagus, but really had one.  I got nervous that there wouldn’t be enough to feed five people.  So I added Brussels sprouts.  Because adding Brussels sprouts always makes everything better.

You know you’ve had too much wine when your friends grab the computer to write down your own quote:
“Everything in the kitchen looks like a sex toy… wait, maybe I just think everything looks like a sex toy.”

Edith has woken up and is reading us a list of 14 Serial Killers Who Were Never Captured, In Order Of How Frightening Their Media-Created Names Are.  My favorite is “The Doodler,” I think.

She and Gus are both very concerned about the serial killers:

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I decide to dump the lentils on top of the roasted vegetables in the baking sheet, to save space and do less dishes.  Edith and Boots are both extremely skeptical.  It totally works.

What doesn’t work, is taking a clear picture of it:

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Unfortunately, after a bottle of wine, I have difficulty remembering correct sayings and in attempting to chide Edith and Boots for their lack of faith in my cooking prowess, say something along the lines of,

“Oh ye, what little faith you have.”

Words are hard.

Potatoes with mustard are good.

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Oh, ye.

I’ve learned that wine is the most helpful when cooking!