Wednesday, September 19, 2018

A Complete Guide to Cooking

I turned chicken to mush.
No, I am serious! I turned what should of been BBQ chicken to mush.

Mush: (N) a soft, wet, pulpy mess. 

There I was, being the poster-child for housewives, standing in the kitchen drinking a glass of wine when my Speedracer walked in from a long day at work. I hear his work boots smacking down on the tile floor as I hear "Wow, That smells great!" from the other room. Instant Tears. Just about the time he turned the corner into the kitchen I am throwing the pan into the sink and sobbing uncontrollably into my glass of merlot. 

My back was to him so he didn't see the downpour of tears falling into my glass, but I knew he is standing right behind me. I hear him ask "What did you make for dinner?" I slowly turned around and pointed to the trashcan. "Open it!" I mumbled while taking another gulp of wine! and then he asked the question that no man should ever ask a woman who just, attempted, to make him a nice dinner. 

"What is it?"  
Because yes, it was that MUSH(ed)

"Chicken." *sips wine*
"THAT was Chicken? What did you do to it?"

I cried. 
He laughed. 
I cried more. 
He followed up by saying..
"I'll get changed and we can see what else we have."

10 Minutes later we were in the truck and on our way to a local eatery because I refused to look at our kitchen a second longer. My arms were crossed and I was huffing to myself while staring out the window. He laughed and said 

"So..You want to tell me what happened?"
"Did you defrost it all the way?"

I whipped my head around so fast I think I broke my neck!

"Of course I defrosted it all the way. I'm not an idiot."

He laughs.
"Babe! I'm just asking."

I huffed again and crossed my arms.

" I didn't get the cooking genes like my mom and sister!
So either we don't get married or you have to deal with having
a bowl of cereal for every meal for all of eternity."

He laughed.
" I think I will marry you and take my chances." 

I rolled my eyes and huffed.

It's been a little over 6 years since mush chicken and I have only cooked chicken maybe twice since then. That wasn't the last meal my SR came home to find in the trash though. I went through a phase where everything I would cook, I would immediately throw in the garbage. I just didn't get the cooking gene. Mom has tried to send me the easiest recipes she has and I still mess them up. Yes, I mess recipes up that are as easy to follow as blinking your eyes. And any recipe that I do have and have tried to follow, I still find myself calling my mom about 15 times until the meal is done to ask questions that are ridiculous. And all the while my older sister is sending me pictures of chimichurri steak with garlic potatoes au gratin. Look Sis, I made captain crunch...again!

Now let me give you a quick history of this husband of mine. He was raised partly by his Grandparents and Partly by his Father - with the help of his Aunt and Uncle. He spent a lot of time learning how to cook from his Grandma, the woman he calls Mom. This woman is a saint, a freaking saint I tell you - and the patience she must of had with my husband when he was a kid is only something I can imagine. 

On the other hand, my father-in-law went to culinary school. So my husband spent a lot of time learning from his father about the ins and outs of cooking in the kitchen. The stories my husband would tell me of all the times they'd throw something together with the ingredients they had on hand; and all the home-made pizza nights they'd do. I love hearing how much these times in the kitchen with his Dad had an impact on him. I also have to be selfish here and say, I'm glad he likes cooking because at least one of us enjoys it. I'm also one of those woman who enjoy walking into the kitchen and seeing a man be all crafty with food. He Cooks, I eat. It's a win win situation here! Find you a man who loves to cook - Husband him up ASAP!

A while back I found a "Miss Fostino's 1st Grade Cook Book" - a little recipe book that SR's 1st grade class created full of their favorite recipes. As I was flipping through it I came across a recipe that made me laugh because this kid totally knew what was up when it came to cooking. It read:

How to Make Cereal:
Pour Milk and Cereal in Bowl.
Eat it.

Devon, Age 5.

Devon is my Speedracer's actual name. and it's safe to say - I knew I loved him even before we met. He knows just my speed of cooking. I mean, how brilliant of a 5 year old was he? He knows how to perfectly craft a meal that is pleasing to everyone and it's a meal that is totally acceptable to have at any time of day!

Now Ladies, I know you're thinking - Okay, this is the part of the story when Ashlee pulls a rabbit out of a hat and tells us she finally came up with a easy way to cook chicken in under an hour that is topped with a homemade lemon-rosemary sauce with ingredients that I had picked from my personal garden.

And so...Here I say...A Recipe...

To the girlfriend crying into your wine glass because you are trying to cook your boyfriend a good meal so that maybe, just maybe you'll get married since of course your only hope to wifehood is through knowing how to cook. Spark Note: It's 2018 not 1950. No Fear My Sister...You'll get Married anyways. A way to a mans heart is through his stomach. Food is the trick. well...not mush chicken, but you know...Other Foods. 

So, here is my recipe for you on those nights when you feel defeated and your kitchen is full of smoke because you burnt the chicken that was supposed to come off the grill 10 minutes ago and now it's laying in your garbage looking like a pile of rotten cottage cheese...

How to Make Cereal:
Pour Milk and Cereal in Bowl.
Eat it.

Ashlee, Age 28.