I got up early with the intention of cooking Isabelle's favorite cuisine as a peace offering for my attitude yesterday. My emotions were valid, but I think they were exaggerated. It was a little off, to the point where Isabelle was affected by my stupidity. She did nothing wrong, yet I treated her poorly, with no explanation of my action. Oh! Hormones.
I took my time preparing the ingredients for my adobo. It was supposed to be a steak. But the ingredients are limited, and I don't have boneless ribeye or even scotch fillet. So, I have to cook something that is convenient on my part. Well, Isabelle isn't a picky eater though. She wouldn't complain. I'll just do it some other time.
I was in the middle of marinating the chicken when the doorbell rang. I first reduced the intensity of the f
