Sunday evening, the Mr. came into the living room and began a conversation by saying, “In the 20-something years we’ve been married…”
Then, he paused.
I had no idea what he was about to say. It had the potential to be ugly. We’d had a little disagreement a couple of hours before, so my claws were ready to come out.
Yes, I am the perfect wife.
Your husbands should be jealous.
heehee
Anyhow, after his dramatic pause, during which I counted out the number of years we’ve been married (the man can barely remember his home address…keeping up with 22 years is a stretch for him), he finished his statement by saying, “…you’ve never made a meal I couldn’t eat. Tonight was the first time.”
Oh yes.
My cooking skills at their finest.
I’d tried, I really had.
I had seen a menu that Chicky had posted on the refrigerator but had never gotten around to cooking (she was mean to tempt the boys with home-cooked meals).
After opening the Rachael Ray cookbook to one of the recipes listed, I had gotten busy.
I’d worked my fingers to the bone using time I scarcely had.
I’m a second-year teacher, thus I’m constantly working on lesson plans.
I had to make a couple of ingredient substitutions…sherry wine for red, red onion for a shallot.
Nothing major, you see.
Apparently I’ll never make it to Chopped‘s final round. Heck, I’d never make it out of the first round.
I cannot, you see, improvise, which is what you’re required to do if you participate in the above mentioned [Food Network’s] competition.
The sherry was way too strong…it simply never completely reduced.
Oops.
The Mr. told me that the flavor had permeated the large chicken pieces, making them inedible as well. The Mr. commented that if he somehow managed to get down an entire plate of the stuff, he’d be walking around in a drunken stupor, that’s how strong the dinner was.
We decided to play a trick on Rooster, who was at youth group.
We didn’t warn him about the dinner.
Yes, we are loving parents. That’s why our children treat us in such a fine manner.
Feel free to roll your eyes.
Rooster came home, and I’m quite positive that I heard him sniffing around the pot of “stuff,” much in the same way that my dogs investigate something unfamiliar.
Then, I heard him pull out a bowl, milk, and cereal.
Mama didn’t raise no dummies, don’t you know.
At this point, the Mr. and I spilled the beans.
I’m not sure how amused my Rooster boy was, but I cackled none the less.
Honestly, this isn’t the first dish that’s been received in such fashion.
Fortunately for me, the Mr.’s memory is not very good. He doesn’t remember the other time(s).
heehee
Filed under: This-n-That | Tagged: cooking misshaps | 3 Comments »
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