I made soup. I sauteed leeks in butter, then fried balls of risotto mixed with fresh bread crumbs, parmesan cheese and egg in the same pan. Then I ladled in strong broth, let it heat through (checked the temperature of the rice balls with an instant-read thermometer, as I fear salmonella irrationally), and put it in front of Joe.
He said it was not appealing. The rice, he said, was "too greasy." And later, my mother said it didn't sound like something she would eat, either.
I ate his bowl, my bowl and an extra bowl. Wonder why I've put on weight?