Food for Thought

My poor husband. He had no idea the level of my cooking incompetence when he signed up for this. A year after we were married his grandmother made a family cookbook and everyone was to turn in recipes. I had nothing. There's a cute picture of me in my wedding dress with the recipe how to boil water. Pete's brothers still tease me, asking if I've moved on to ice cubes yet. I wish that was a little farther from the truth. It took me 2 years. 2 WHOLE years to realize the reason my chicken tasted like foot when I cooked it was because I didn't add seasoning. Or marinade. True story.
I now use seasonings when I cook thankyouverymuch, but that doesn't make it much better. I've tried 5 times now to get my Mom's WONDERFUL biscuit recipe right. This last time they were beautiful. And tasted like salt. And foot. I seriously had to ask my friend Sonia today whether or not you were supposed to take the skin off of sausage when you cooked it, and how you could tell when it was done. So sad. My poor neighbor Jen who used to live across the street often opened her door to me asking if she thought the meat smelled right, did she think the sour cream was too sour, or if the chicken looked done. Maybe that's why she moved. She was done sniffing my dinners.
Frustrated, I gave up on the sausage and decided to go with plain ol' hot dogs tonight. Even I can't mess those up. Sonia said we're all allowed to have a handicap. I'm not sure that makes me feel better though.

*sigh*