Well, here I am. It's a little after 10 p.m., the kids are in bed and the dogs have been in bed and snoring for hours. I'm waiting for my husband to return home after a four-day business trip.
The house is quiet except for the ticking of the wall clock.
This moment is especially pleasurable because today my OCD kicked in and I went on a cleaning rampage in anticipation of my husband's return. I scoured toilets, wiped mirrors, used Clorox on just about every surface, and changed bedsheets. Then, I thought I'd be a super nice wife and make him a hearty dinner, keep it warm, and have a glass of wine with him. It was a good thought, but I just chose the wrong thing to cook.
I chose beef stroganoff from the Better Homes and Gardens New Cook Book, circa 1981. The cookbook was given to me in 1987 by my late mother. She inscribed it with "This is one of the best. Enjoy. Love Mom." She had great handwriting which, sadly, is not a genetic trait.
Anyway, I bought the ingredients, pulled out my big cast iron Dutch Oven pot, and got to work as my son completed his homework. I floured and salted the beef tenderloin cubes, buttered the pot, chopped the onions, and spooned in the tomato paste. Stirred, tasted and salted the concoction.
But a funny thing happened as I was cooking. Life interrupted. First, my son kept peppering me with math questions. This is never a good thing. After all, there is a reason I studied Journalism. Then my daughter pulled herself up to the breakfast bar. She carefully laid out a clothes catalog and told me which items she wants for Christmas. Then she said to me, "Mom, I know where you can hide the Christmas presents this year."
"Well, if you tell me where to hide them, that's not exactly hiding them," I said.
Then, I stepped backwards and nearly tripped over a dog.
I definitely wasn't having a Martha moment. But I continued to read the recipe and kept thinking, "Hum, this is a lot of flour it's asking for."
The taste was kind of bland and gritty so I added more wine. And some parsley. And more garlic. And a little more wine.
Finally, I gave up and served it to my children. Along with steamed asparagus drizzled with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. They were so delighted.
So, in conclusion, I guess I'm better at making dishes calling for Rotel, cream of mushroom soup, chili powder and/or chicken broth.
Although my husband will probably prefer the leftover brisket from Sunday night, I'm sure he'll appreciate my effort. That, and the fresh pine scent the house has.
Wondering where exactly did I go wrong?
The Wondering Texan
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| Looks like a science experiment with worms. |
This moment is especially pleasurable because today my OCD kicked in and I went on a cleaning rampage in anticipation of my husband's return. I scoured toilets, wiped mirrors, used Clorox on just about every surface, and changed bedsheets. Then, I thought I'd be a super nice wife and make him a hearty dinner, keep it warm, and have a glass of wine with him. It was a good thought, but I just chose the wrong thing to cook.
 |
| After I "doctored" it some. |
Anyway, I bought the ingredients, pulled out my big cast iron Dutch Oven pot, and got to work as my son completed his homework. I floured and salted the beef tenderloin cubes, buttered the pot, chopped the onions, and spooned in the tomato paste. Stirred, tasted and salted the concoction.
But a funny thing happened as I was cooking. Life interrupted. First, my son kept peppering me with math questions. This is never a good thing. After all, there is a reason I studied Journalism. Then my daughter pulled herself up to the breakfast bar. She carefully laid out a clothes catalog and told me which items she wants for Christmas. Then she said to me, "Mom, I know where you can hide the Christmas presents this year."
"Well, if you tell me where to hide them, that's not exactly hiding them," I said.
Then, I stepped backwards and nearly tripped over a dog.
I definitely wasn't having a Martha moment. But I continued to read the recipe and kept thinking, "Hum, this is a lot of flour it's asking for."
The taste was kind of bland and gritty so I added more wine. And some parsley. And more garlic. And a little more wine.
Finally, I gave up and served it to my children. Along with steamed asparagus drizzled with balsamic vinegar and olive oil. They were so delighted.
So, in conclusion, I guess I'm better at making dishes calling for Rotel, cream of mushroom soup, chili powder and/or chicken broth.
Although my husband will probably prefer the leftover brisket from Sunday night, I'm sure he'll appreciate my effort. That, and the fresh pine scent the house has.
Wondering where exactly did I go wrong?
The Wondering Texan
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