The Late Night Gourmet
Home kook
- Joined
- 30 Mar 2017
- Local time
- 2:25 AM
- Messages
- 5,718
- Location
- Detroit, USA
- Website
- absolute0cooking.com
We’ve all been in situations where someone else is making the food, and we’re at the mercy of how they’re making it. I’m thinking of this as I wait for dinner. My wife’s mom said she wanted to make something with potatoes and chicken. The chicken breasts look good: they’re breaded and pan fried. The potatoes are in the oven.
Just now, she joined us in the living room to watch TV. I was nervous, so I asked if the chicken was done yet. She said, “I’m keeping them warm while I’m waiting for the potatoes to be done.” I tried to act casual as I got off the couch.
The chicken breasts had been done for several minutes. The pan was on medium heat, all the chicken still in there, gradually turning black. I took the chicken off the heat: the potatoes cooked for another 15 minutes, and the chicken would have been incinerated.
Dinner was good today. I took the thickest one, and it was still moist inside. The seasoning was good. The potatoes were also good, but overly salty.
Disaster was averted, but this beats the heck out of other bad home dining experiences. I’ve mentioned more than once how my brother in law routinely turns hamburgers into charcoal briquettes. I wish I could be like my wife in these situations: she just looks at it and says “no”. I feel obligated to be polite, so I pretend to like it while I choke it down (I then look for an opportunity to shovel it into the trash when the cook isn’t looking).
Just now, she joined us in the living room to watch TV. I was nervous, so I asked if the chicken was done yet. She said, “I’m keeping them warm while I’m waiting for the potatoes to be done.” I tried to act casual as I got off the couch.
The chicken breasts had been done for several minutes. The pan was on medium heat, all the chicken still in there, gradually turning black. I took the chicken off the heat: the potatoes cooked for another 15 minutes, and the chicken would have been incinerated.
Dinner was good today. I took the thickest one, and it was still moist inside. The seasoning was good. The potatoes were also good, but overly salty.
Disaster was averted, but this beats the heck out of other bad home dining experiences. I’ve mentioned more than once how my brother in law routinely turns hamburgers into charcoal briquettes. I wish I could be like my wife in these situations: she just looks at it and says “no”. I feel obligated to be polite, so I pretend to like it while I choke it down (I then look for an opportunity to shovel it into the trash when the cook isn’t looking).