So. Yeah. I'm jealous (or envious)(or both) of a lot of people. Skinny moms. Independently wealthies. Anyone born in the mid-eighties. Meryl Streep. And lately, I've been jealous of my dear beloved Fred. Because he has done something I thought impossible.
He's surpassed me in the kitchen. This is bad.
It began with Apple Chicken with Cous-Cous, a simple Family Circle recipe. He made it and it was a testament to mixing fruit with meat, something I'm not always sold on. Rich but not overly heavy, with salty, fatty chicken thighs to cut through the sweetness of the apple glaze. It was so good, in fact, I decided to make it for my mom when she visited.
Unlike Fred, I'm not one for following a recipe exactly. I'm a seasoned home cook, after all. I mean, it's cute and all, the way Fred measures out things. But I'm a maverick. A brilliant scientist. A dare devil!
A moron.
By throwing caution to the wind and not following the recipe, I ended up throwing out about a pound of undercooked chicken thighs. My sauce was overly sweet. The cous cous was dry and the spinach didn't wilt.
How did this happen? This is a guy who owned ONE POT before we got married and we put (I snuck) lots of lovely All-Clad on our Williams Sonoma registry. Maybe his body chemistry is stimulated by a $205 saute pan or something.
Then I had a glimmer of hope. One morning Fred announces he's going to try a stuffed chicken breast recipe. Finally! I think. A chance for him to fail! Stuffed chicken breasts are almost legally required to be dry, tasteless, and leave a shard of toothpick stuck to the roof of your mouth. He's so gonna bomb on this one.
Wrong again.
The dinner was beautiful. The chicken was juicy and the stuffing creamy. Almonds gave a perfect crunch to the texture. He steamed some fresh, crunchy green beans and made a side of buttered basmati rice with peas. I secured my Black Card membership in the Clean Plate Club. And left the table with that little green monster nipping at my psyche.
My jealousy is compounded by the fact that I've cooked up a lot of misses lately. There was this Squash Au Gratin that sounded amazing, but I didn't feel the need to use real cream in it so we ended up with a dry squash casserole. Then there was a "chili" I made with our leftover ham hock from Easter, one I decided to improvise and therefore, ended up with a watery bean soup.
I'm starting to think I should try Fred's little "following the recipe" tactic.
Even a maverick needs a little direction, right?
If you're so inclined, you can find the recipe for Stuffed Chicken with Almonds here.
Yes, it's a Cooking Light recipe.
Yes, we've had a lot of luck with Cooking Light lately.
No, I don't think it's just because of Fred.
8 comments:
OK, wow. Timely.
The Boss has just recently mastered making pasta. I'm usually the cook and all of a sudden, here is this guy, this guy who admitted that he used to make himself carrots and peas from a can and mix them with rice before we met, this guy who is usually more than happy to allow me free and total reign in the kitchen - and he is making this amazing pasta (recipe from The French Laundry) and I have become a total crack addict. I begged him to make it this weekend, and he did, twice, but then informed me: You know, this isn't going to be a regular thing.
I then pouted and stamped like a six year old.
Ahhhhh - the pain when the student becomes the master.
In short: I feel you, sister.
(Luckily it sounds like your defeat is just as delicious as mine.)
Thanks for the empathy, Saint Tigerlily. It's weird to feel both offended at satiated at the same time, but by golly, we do it!
Even the best of the best go through a slump from time to time. And I'm sure Fred's successes are just lucky. You're the master, you know you are. ;)
I feel your pain. But you write about it better than I do!
I'm no Webster but I would say that the difference between envy and jealousy is that envy is wanting the same as what someone else has. Like, your brother is a millionaire so you want to be a millionaire too. Jealousy is wanting to take something away from someone else. Like, you want to be married to Diane Neal instead of whatever loser she's wasting her life with.
I keep trying to get my husband to make a stab at dinner- but your post gives me pause- maybe I should continue my iron-fisted rule over the kitchen? But one good stuffed chicken breast doesn't make a seasoned home chef... I'm sure that you're still winning.
Wendy-Thanks, girl! I made a very good pot roast on Sunday, so I'm comin' back.
dynagirl-Glad you can relate!
Fred-Thanks for the explanation. And for mentioning your obsession with Diane Neal in public.
Alana-Well, it stinks that Fred is better than I am, but the rewards are great food. So I say, go for it!
This sounds like my losing my cooking mojo days...sometimes the stretch lasts for a terrifyingly long time :) But it comes back! I just "forget" to document those mishaps on the blog! Thanks for summing it up - gave me a good laugh.
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