Any one who truly knows me knows that I hate to cook. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I'm not a big food person so their isn't much of an attraction for me when it comes to the kitchen. This normally wouldn't be an issue but I married into an Italian family. My Mother-In law is a very good cook but to hear my husband tell it she is every famous chef rolled into one. Now I love the women but who can even compete with that. Why would I even try?
You would think that after eight years of marriage I would just give up but for some reason I still keep trying to please him in the kitchen. I'm good everywhere else! OK, well, maybe not with house work but truly good every where else. So after eight years of marriage I'm still attempting to be Betty Crocker. I'm sure that the new kitchen we, I mean he, put in for us, I mean me, has something to do with it.
Last night I tried to make a simple pot of soul warming baked potato soup. The recipe was simple, fast, and dinner was on the table in 30 minutes. Baked potato soup with crumbled bacon, melted sharp cheddar and some warm crusty bread. What else could you even ask for? I thought it even tasted like baked potatoes. My husband's response, "this isn't how my mother makes it" and "where are the chunks of potatoes?" Ugghh! Needless to say he wasn't impressed and didn't even like it.
Well, Thursday rolls around and I thought I'd give it another go and try to make another meal to please my husband. This time I would try my hand a home-made chicken enchiladas. This recipe called for cooking the chicken in a slow cooker for most of the day to cut the cooking time in the oven down to only 30 minutes.
Once I arrived home from work the chicken was done and shredded, my husband was kind enough to do this part so he could say that he helped, and just had to be assembled in the soft tortilla shells to then be baked in the oven for half an hour.
During the last ten minutes in the oven I even called my mother in-law to see if she had ever prepared enchiladas. To my relief she had not. YES! I wouldn't be hearing "this isn't how my mother makes it" out of my significant other tonight.
It was the moment of truth. The enchilada was on his plate, the fork was in his mouth.........and he wasn't complaining. I kept waiting for the smirk, the comment, something but nothing ever came. Well, I asked? Finally he asked me how much work it was for me to make them? Not much I said as the crock pot did most of the work. Well, he said, I like them and I'd like you to make them again. What? What's this I say? Do my ears deceive me? He, my husband who hates everything I make, actually liked dinner and wanted me to make it again.
Needless to say I was quite pleased as he actually enjoyed something I cooked and asked for it again. What more is there to say than OLE'
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