Failure in the Kitchen

I only make ONE dish that my husband loves and gets excited about. ONE! The rest is me crossing my fingers hoping he'll ask for it again someday fully knowing that he won't. It's not that I am a horrible cook. Frankly, I do OK. Not fantastic, but I occasionally have glimpses of genius that are delish, and I can make a hearty soup out of just about anything. So maybe I have two things going for me: soup and lasagna. That's it. That's all I've got. For a girl who took classes on this stuff I don't have much to say for myself.

For the past three days, I've made an effort for a couple of different reasons. I tend to eat more if I cook it and I know I need to eat more, and I didn't want to subject our newest resident (Randy's little sister Janae) to our not so consistent meals. I also figured if Randy doesn't love it she probably won't either so maybe I should step it up a notch. We've been trying to meet in the middle for years- we grew up eating pretty different foods. What I think is amazing and what he thinks is amazing are not the same. For instance- I had no idea that people put butter AND jam on toast.... To me that is disgusting and I can see my arteries clogging. Alas, upon surveying those around me I have discovered that I am the weird one, not he. Darn. We like the same foods, but we do not in fact crave the same foods. (Unfortunate eh?)

My idea of dessert- watermelon, cantaloupe, or an apple with a dump of caramel; His- the ice cream he smuggles into the house. It's not that I don't like ice cream I just don't want it around all the time. And when he does smuggle it I eat it gratefully with an ever so faint smudging of regret. In fact I believe that Birthday Cake Remix from Cold Stone Creamery touches my soul in almost the same way the $750 cowboy boots I drool after do... That indescribable way ya know? Either way the love is there, just not all the time and only on my terms which I have yet to discover.

Back in our early years I never even touched leftovers- I fed them to Randy (that's really where his 'grown-up-I'm-gonna-beef-up-newlywed' weight came from...not my not so fabulous cooking.)

So this week I did three of my relatively consistent dishes. However, each one messed up, and they all came out SALTY. Saltier than Pringles. Roast Beef in a crock pot- I changed one thing and we ended up eating wet beef jerky. That doesn't sound so bad- I LOVE beef jerky and can't wait to make my own someday whenever I buy a dehydrator... but wet soggy overly salted beef was really gross. Even the veggies were blahglehlahg and that's usually my favorite part. Mikayla and Rowan refused. If Row refuses that means its BAD. He eats everything. Or he did.

Next- Chicken Fricassee. I can't spell that. Whatever, It's like chicken and dumplings with no dumplings. I don't know how that one messed up- it was salty too. Both of the kids passed on this as well.

Tonight- Manicotti. I did add Italian sausage, purposely did not season with salt, and again I had an overly salty dish that made me gag a little. And again, my children refused it.

Any suggestions for tomorrow? No salt allowed. We are all going to have hypertension at the rate I've made my family consume sodium... And given my family history that is NO good. Ugh... I like cooking. I really do. I just don't like the dishes and worrying if people like it. It stresses me out almost as much as throwing birthday parties. I usually bring prepackaged food to parties... for a reason!