Earlier today I decided to take a bubble bath while Noah took his afternoon nap. I wasn't really stressed, but really wanted to just let every bit of my body unwind and relax. As I was soaking there, I decided to make a nice meal for Tim. When I was at the conference last weekend one of the workshops I attended was called "What Every Wife Should Know." One of the points was to let your husband know he is loved and appreciated. My husband loves food. I honestly don't know where he puts it considering he is the same size today that he was in Jr. High, but he loves to eat. So I thought to myself, "Hmmm, I will show my love for him through food. The way to a man's heart (especially Tim's) is through his stomach, right?"
So I decide to make Chicken Marsala. I have never made this before, but I like to cook and love a challenge, so I give it a whirl. Now, one thing that I am not confident while cooking is when something says "Heat oil in pan. Cook chicken however much time blah blah blah." I freak out when I see the "heat oil in pan" part because that usually means I will end up burning the chicken because I won't put enough oil in the pan and then it will stick and my meal is screwed up. But today I am confident because I have a vision. My vision is to have Tim walk through the door to find jazz music in the background, a candle lit on the table, Noah happy in his highchair, and a delicious gourmet meal ready to eat. We will talk endlessly through dinner as we sip our wine and dine on fine cuisine from the Cooking Light website. This is what Tim walks in to find:
Noah sitting in the middle of the kitchen wailing because he is hungry and his dinner is not ready yet. Even though the stove vent fan, living room ceiling fan, and living room door are all open and on, there is still smoke everywhere because I put too MUCH oil in the pan and it is now spattering all over the stove top, counter, me, and everything in close proximity. Good thing Noah is in the middle of the kitchen. There is music in the background, but you can't hear it over all the ruckus. The chicken still has a good 15 or more minutes to go. I am ready to break into the wine. Tim scoops up Noah and takes him to his bedroom, probably for fresh air from an open window and because he can tell that I am now stressed.
However, I delivered an outstanding meal. Chicken marsala, fresh green beans, grape tomatoes, and breadsticks. We don't really talk through the meal because Noah is fussy and we're trying to attend to him and give him more food (the boy eats like his father. He actually ate 2 full chicken breasts tonight.) I pour us each a glass of wine. We take a sip and then start to choke. We are not really drinkers in the first place. I enjoy some wines with dinner, but we never buy it ourselves to drink so we are not really connoiseurs. Because of this lack of knowledge we have, I don't know if Marsala is just not good drinking wine or if we just really are not drinkers. I think we are just really not drinkers. But we are eaters, and we ate a good meal. Tim gave it an A+.
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