It was an accident. I'm glad to say that I laughed and came up with an alternative dinner plan within ten seconds and the food itself in less than fifteen minutes.
I made a bolognese-type sauce to go with pasta this evening. It was tasty, although it hadn't had the requisite long cooking. I called Ro down and asked him to carry the trayful of food through. I can't carry traysful any longer, not without demonstrating the Quasimodo Lurch. I carried the wine, cheese and glasses and he carried the tray with plates, cutlery, pasta and sauce and the sprouts (what? of course Brussels sprouts go with spag bol). I went first, to open the door.
There was a crash. I went back. The meat sauce covered a surprisingly large area of floor. Tilly shot past me, looking scared and embarrassed for having tripped Ro up.
I laughed. Ro looked stricken. "This will all have to be thrown out! What shall we have for dinner?"
"Put on the grill," I said. "We have bacon." Fortunately, I'd not put the sauce on the pasta and that dishful was still on the tray. "Carbonara sauce," I decided.
We always have ingredients for spaghetti carbonara, don't we? I'd even grated the Parmesan. While the bacon cooked, we scooped up the sauce and then called Tilly back to lick the remnants off the floor (may I make it clear, at this point, that Tilly is a dog? Don't let Dave mislead you, unless it is into naughtiness). I only had greek yoghurt not cream, but I cracked eggs, squeezed a lemon, ground black pepper and it took no time at all.
Ro is abashed. Tilly has got over it. I'll cook the meal again tomorrow, because Ro said it looked and smelled so good. The chickens will be thrilled at their meaty dinner in the morning.