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texchanMy "Domestic Diva" adventures continue ...
Hmmm ... Maybe it's best to start at the beginning. Or, well, the most recent beginning, anyhow. So ... I started the week out already running at a deficit. Last week was weird for cooking and such because hubby had meetings on two or three nights. Which means that, instead of making my normal grocery store run, I avoided it like the plague and started the week out with pretty much nothing in the way of food in the house. I had just enough stuff to squeak by on Kiddo's lunch for thje week, but it was slim pickings. The fruit was going bad, cereal was running low, milk almost gone ... In short, the cupboard was bare.
Monday, I didn't have to cook. Tuesday, Kiddo and I got the flu shots. She was fine; I have felt like crap all week. Tuesday night, I managed to scrape enough stuff together for chicken noodle soup and biscuits, but it wasn't easy. Wednesday, Hubby had a meeting, so Kiddo asked for McDonalds. I gave in, mainly because we were out of milk, and I realized I could buy some there. (The girl at the drive thru gave me a strange look when I ordered 4 little bottles of milk.) Thursday, we decided to eat out.
So ... Today. Friday. I finally make it to the grocery store, albeit thinking I wouldn't cook because we usually eat out on Friday. Instead, Hubby decides he wants to eat at home. I wasn't all that on board with the "eat at home" plan, simply because this week has been made of HATE for me and eating at home means a LOT of work. But ... whatever. I had already spent all this time at the grocery store and everything. I had been planning on making this beef stew recipe: Beef Stew with Carmelized Onions and Red Wine. Sounds yummy, right? And the best part ... I can do this in my new, lovely Dutch Oven pot I got recently. (I'm still rather terrified at the thought that I spent $200 on a pot ... but I suppose that's fodder for another entry. Anyhoo ...)
For this stew, I have to cut the meat in cubes. No problem, I thought, since I was so clever and bought stew meat already cubed. Oh, I slay myself. Then, I have to braise it in the pot in some oil. Slightly bigger problem, since I hate it when the oil pops up on me. It scares me almost as much as clowns. Hubby came down to help with that part, which was fine. Until we put the second batch of meat in to braise. I looked in the pot and said: "Hmmm, I think we should add more oil. The recipe said I would probably have to add more in between batches." Hubby's response: "Nah. It's fine." And then he dumps the meat in.
BIG MISTAKE!! Because it braised way too quickly and ended up burning. Not a ton, but still ... it wasn't pretty. The whole second floor filled with smoke, so I had to turn off the AC and open the windows and sliding glass doors. Well, one sliding glass door. I have two sets, but can only open one, thanks to my dad -- again, fodder for another entry.
While the meat was braising, I collected the rest of what I needed for the recipe: Red wine, check! Flour, check! Beef Stock, check! Sugar, check! 3 Onions, thinly sliced, check! Thyme ... oh crap. Yep. I had no Thyme. (Which kind of amuses me in a manic sort of way. You know ... I'm outta Thyme / time. Get it? Yeah, well, it was funny to me at the moment.) So, I figure: no biggie. I'll do without it. It's not that much, anyhow. I go to open the red wine so I can measure it out and ...
No freaking corkscrew! Now, don't get me wrong. We have a corkscrew. I just have no idea where the stupid thing is. zOMG! At this point, I seriously feel like sitting down and crying. Right there in the middle of the kitchen. I mean, I can't open the wine. I have no Thyme. I've already burned about a quarter of the meat. And, once I carmelize the onions, it all has to cook for an hour and a half or two hours. We were looking at eating around 9 PM, which is just way too late. At least, it was way too late for me today. This seemed like a recipe that was not meant to be.
But, no. Hubby was kind enough to calm me down a bit. Then he offered to go out and get a corkscrew. We decided I would go ahead and finish the stew; he would get Chick-Fil-A for dinner and bring it home, and we could eat the stew tomorrow, as it would be all ready to go. He says: "While you carmelize the onions, I'll run out to the drug store and get a corkscrew." Sounds great. The store is on the corner, and the whole carmelizing process takes around 15 - 20 minutes. I'm saved!
Except ...
Hubby (much as I love him) doesn't leave right away. He has to change clothes. Then he starts goofing around with Kiddo. Then, he gets to the car and realizes he has forgotten his wallet. Then, he goes in and out three or four times. By the time he finally pulled the car out of the garage, I only had 3 minutes left before the onions were done -- at which point I would have to pour in the red wine. Which I couldn't open. Because I didn't know where the FRAK our corkscrew was. -.-"
Needless to say, the onions ended up cooking for too long. Some of them burned and stuck to the bottom of the pot. After being gone for about ten minutes (keep in mind he really only had three in which to accomplish this entire task ... which was impossible), Hubby calls me from the corner store to say they don't have a corkscrew. At this point, I'm really desperate. My onions are going to ruin right before my eyes! Not to mention the whole "I already burned all that meat" thing. So, I'm all: "Well, do they have any cheap red wine? The kind with a screw top?" But, of course ... no. Where is all the friggin' cheap, hill-billy wine when you need it? Argh! So, Hubby told me he would go to the regular grocery store to get one. Which hardly matters at this point, as my onions will be totally ruined by the time he gets home. I managed to mutter a half-hearted "whatever", and we hung up.
About two minutes later, Hubby comes back home. I was all excited, and met him at the door. "Did you find a corkscrew?" I have visions in my head that, maybe, I'll be able to salvage this pathetic meal, after all. But, no ... He hadn't found a corkscrew. But, he remembered he had a Swiss Army Knife upstairs on his desk. It was a groomsmen's gift from a friends wedding many years ago, and he never uses it. But, he remembered that it has a corkscrew. Huzzah! Saved!
Hubby managed to open the wine with the Swiss Army Knife corkscrew. It wasn't easy, either, and we ended up with wine splashed all over the kitchen counters, the stove, and a little bit on the floor -- which Fae licked up. I'm certain that can't be good for her pin-headedness.
Whatever. At this point, I didn't even care about the stupid stew any more. I just wanted to be done with the whole, ridiculous project. I measured out the red wine ... tossed in the rest of the ingredients -- minus the Thyme -- stirred it all together, reduced the heat, and stuffed the lid back on the pot. I figured, now, it was time for the easy part. The stress of everything was over and done ... and I could sit back and relax (and eat my Chick-Fil-A) while waiting for it to cook for an hour and a half or two hours.
Oh no. This is the stew from hell. I'm not kidding. I had it on the stove cooking for, maybe, 30 minutes, when I went upstairs to check on it. Steamy smoke was pouring out from under the lid of my pot, and the room, once more, had taken on a distinctly smoky smell and flavor. Well, crap. I checked the stew, and, sure enough, it was burning. Again. I think I mumbled a lot of curse words under my breath. And a few not so under my breath. I turned the heat down, stirred the stew up as best as I could, and added some more red wine. Hey, at this point, what could it hurt?
So ... it is now 8:30 PM. I started on this adventure around 5. I am tired. I have a headache. My feet and back hurt. And I'm in such a bad mood because I'm sure this stupid stew -- that I slaved over!! -- is going to be completely inedible. As if that wasn't bad enough, it's going to take me forever to get my pot clean again. Bah. And double bah.
At least the Chick-Fil-A was good. o_o
Hmmm ... Maybe it's best to start at the beginning. Or, well, the most recent beginning, anyhow. So ... I started the week out already running at a deficit. Last week was weird for cooking and such because hubby had meetings on two or three nights. Which means that, instead of making my normal grocery store run, I avoided it like the plague and started the week out with pretty much nothing in the way of food in the house. I had just enough stuff to squeak by on Kiddo's lunch for thje week, but it was slim pickings. The fruit was going bad, cereal was running low, milk almost gone ... In short, the cupboard was bare.
Monday, I didn't have to cook. Tuesday, Kiddo and I got the flu shots. She was fine; I have felt like crap all week. Tuesday night, I managed to scrape enough stuff together for chicken noodle soup and biscuits, but it wasn't easy. Wednesday, Hubby had a meeting, so Kiddo asked for McDonalds. I gave in, mainly because we were out of milk, and I realized I could buy some there. (The girl at the drive thru gave me a strange look when I ordered 4 little bottles of milk.) Thursday, we decided to eat out.
So ... Today. Friday. I finally make it to the grocery store, albeit thinking I wouldn't cook because we usually eat out on Friday. Instead, Hubby decides he wants to eat at home. I wasn't all that on board with the "eat at home" plan, simply because this week has been made of HATE for me and eating at home means a LOT of work. But ... whatever. I had already spent all this time at the grocery store and everything. I had been planning on making this beef stew recipe: Beef Stew with Carmelized Onions and Red Wine. Sounds yummy, right? And the best part ... I can do this in my new, lovely Dutch Oven pot I got recently. (I'm still rather terrified at the thought that I spent $200 on a pot ... but I suppose that's fodder for another entry. Anyhoo ...)
For this stew, I have to cut the meat in cubes. No problem, I thought, since I was so clever and bought stew meat already cubed. Oh, I slay myself. Then, I have to braise it in the pot in some oil. Slightly bigger problem, since I hate it when the oil pops up on me. It scares me almost as much as clowns. Hubby came down to help with that part, which was fine. Until we put the second batch of meat in to braise. I looked in the pot and said: "Hmmm, I think we should add more oil. The recipe said I would probably have to add more in between batches." Hubby's response: "Nah. It's fine." And then he dumps the meat in.
BIG MISTAKE!! Because it braised way too quickly and ended up burning. Not a ton, but still ... it wasn't pretty. The whole second floor filled with smoke, so I had to turn off the AC and open the windows and sliding glass doors. Well, one sliding glass door. I have two sets, but can only open one, thanks to my dad -- again, fodder for another entry.
While the meat was braising, I collected the rest of what I needed for the recipe: Red wine, check! Flour, check! Beef Stock, check! Sugar, check! 3 Onions, thinly sliced, check! Thyme ... oh crap. Yep. I had no Thyme. (Which kind of amuses me in a manic sort of way. You know ... I'm outta Thyme / time. Get it? Yeah, well, it was funny to me at the moment.) So, I figure: no biggie. I'll do without it. It's not that much, anyhow. I go to open the red wine so I can measure it out and ...
No freaking corkscrew! Now, don't get me wrong. We have a corkscrew. I just have no idea where the stupid thing is. zOMG! At this point, I seriously feel like sitting down and crying. Right there in the middle of the kitchen. I mean, I can't open the wine. I have no Thyme. I've already burned about a quarter of the meat. And, once I carmelize the onions, it all has to cook for an hour and a half or two hours. We were looking at eating around 9 PM, which is just way too late. At least, it was way too late for me today. This seemed like a recipe that was not meant to be.
But, no. Hubby was kind enough to calm me down a bit. Then he offered to go out and get a corkscrew. We decided I would go ahead and finish the stew; he would get Chick-Fil-A for dinner and bring it home, and we could eat the stew tomorrow, as it would be all ready to go. He says: "While you carmelize the onions, I'll run out to the drug store and get a corkscrew." Sounds great. The store is on the corner, and the whole carmelizing process takes around 15 - 20 minutes. I'm saved!
Except ...
Hubby (much as I love him) doesn't leave right away. He has to change clothes. Then he starts goofing around with Kiddo. Then, he gets to the car and realizes he has forgotten his wallet. Then, he goes in and out three or four times. By the time he finally pulled the car out of the garage, I only had 3 minutes left before the onions were done -- at which point I would have to pour in the red wine. Which I couldn't open. Because I didn't know where the FRAK our corkscrew was. -.-"
Needless to say, the onions ended up cooking for too long. Some of them burned and stuck to the bottom of the pot. After being gone for about ten minutes (keep in mind he really only had three in which to accomplish this entire task ... which was impossible), Hubby calls me from the corner store to say they don't have a corkscrew. At this point, I'm really desperate. My onions are going to ruin right before my eyes! Not to mention the whole "I already burned all that meat" thing. So, I'm all: "Well, do they have any cheap red wine? The kind with a screw top?" But, of course ... no. Where is all the friggin' cheap, hill-billy wine when you need it? Argh! So, Hubby told me he would go to the regular grocery store to get one. Which hardly matters at this point, as my onions will be totally ruined by the time he gets home. I managed to mutter a half-hearted "whatever", and we hung up.
About two minutes later, Hubby comes back home. I was all excited, and met him at the door. "Did you find a corkscrew?" I have visions in my head that, maybe, I'll be able to salvage this pathetic meal, after all. But, no ... He hadn't found a corkscrew. But, he remembered he had a Swiss Army Knife upstairs on his desk. It was a groomsmen's gift from a friends wedding many years ago, and he never uses it. But, he remembered that it has a corkscrew. Huzzah! Saved!
Hubby managed to open the wine with the Swiss Army Knife corkscrew. It wasn't easy, either, and we ended up with wine splashed all over the kitchen counters, the stove, and a little bit on the floor -- which Fae licked up. I'm certain that can't be good for her pin-headedness.
Whatever. At this point, I didn't even care about the stupid stew any more. I just wanted to be done with the whole, ridiculous project. I measured out the red wine ... tossed in the rest of the ingredients -- minus the Thyme -- stirred it all together, reduced the heat, and stuffed the lid back on the pot. I figured, now, it was time for the easy part. The stress of everything was over and done ... and I could sit back and relax (and eat my Chick-Fil-A) while waiting for it to cook for an hour and a half or two hours.
Oh no. This is the stew from hell. I'm not kidding. I had it on the stove cooking for, maybe, 30 minutes, when I went upstairs to check on it. Steamy smoke was pouring out from under the lid of my pot, and the room, once more, had taken on a distinctly smoky smell and flavor. Well, crap. I checked the stew, and, sure enough, it was burning. Again. I think I mumbled a lot of curse words under my breath. And a few not so under my breath. I turned the heat down, stirred the stew up as best as I could, and added some more red wine. Hey, at this point, what could it hurt?
So ... it is now 8:30 PM. I started on this adventure around 5. I am tired. I have a headache. My feet and back hurt. And I'm in such a bad mood because I'm sure this stupid stew -- that I slaved over!! -- is going to be completely inedible. As if that wasn't bad enough, it's going to take me forever to get my pot clean again. Bah. And double bah.
At least the Chick-Fil-A was good. o_o