I have five guests coming for dinner in about half an hour. The VP just informed me that the small hams he put in the oven a few hours ago are not really hams, but ham roasts.
Unseasoned, uncured, un-ham. The roasting dish has two greyish lumps that have been cooking at temperatures designed for warming, not killing micro-organisms.
I suppose this is one of those events that I will be able to look back and laugh at years from now. But at the moment all I want to do is put on my coat, grab my car keys, go eat a piece of pizza at the convenience store in town, and come back when it's all over.
Wonder if the BP station will let me bring in my own wine?