The Story of the 3 Meals

I have a secret: I don’t like to cook. There, I said it. 

Oh wait, that’s no secret. I talk more on this blog about Taco Bell and bar food than B or my family. 

When I cook, the results are usually disastrous. Or inedible. Which is worse, in my opinion. I can take a near miss with a fire extinguisher. What I can’t take is chopping and prepping and mixing and waiting only to have something truly abominable come out of the oven. Especially since I refuse to miss meals or waste food, so I'd just end up eating that shit anyway.  

I saw in the paper that a local supermarket chain was going out of business. Another one bites the dust to the Whole paycheck Foods conglomerate. All items were 30% off starting Saturday until everything was gone. I figured this was as good a chance as any to stock up on some cupboard staples. Beer, wine, toilet paper; ya know, the essentials. I make a few lists and hit the store. Wouldn’t you know it’s one of the supermarkets in MA that doesn’t carry alcohol #justmyluck

Although I was dragged there under false pretenses (30% off my ass; it was maybe 10%, if you were lucky), I managed to score most of the items on my lists - minus the OJ for B; sorry, I don't buy extra pulp. 

The first thing I made was a soup off Dr. Oz’s site. Hours of chopping and a day later, our house still smells like onion. Our Yankee candle collection is going overtime. I bought some French bread to accompany the soup, and at the end of lunch yesterday, B’s bowl was full and the loaf was (practically) empty. There was a shit-ton left over. Next time, I won’t need to use my cauldron. 

This morning, B was about to pour himself a bowl of cereal when I ran into the kitchen to tell him to stop, I was going to make pancakes after my run. He was skeptical, but went along with it. I even stopped at Rite Aid after my run to pick up some chocolate chips for him. Except that our Rite Aid doesn’t sell chocolate chips. So I improvised with a bag of M&M’s. The pancakes were actually pretty good. But I only made enough batter for 6-9 cakes, which produced about 5, and left me ravenous. I was starting to feel like Goldilocks; next time, I better make the right amount, damn it. 

Since I was on such a cooking spree, I decided to finally make a cookie mix that had been hanging around our cupboards since last Christmas. It came with a tiny skillet to pour the dough in and bake. With my brand-new chef’s eye, I could tell that baby skillet wouldn’t be able to hold all the dough. So I glopped them onto a cookie sheet and popped 'em in the oven.

baby skillet next to daddy skillet 

I even threw in the rest of the M&M's. I felt confident w/ my newfound cooking knowledge. When I went to check on them, this is what I saw. 

not exactly what Pillsbury commercials are made of 

Despite all hideousness, they actually were kind of tasty. Four cookies, two adults? Finally, I get a recipe just right. I mean, I can usually eat way more than two cookies. But if you were eating these cookies, you would have wanted to stop after two, too.