When I cook...

Ya know, I really haven't been doing too much cooking over here at the house of Kristentatious in the past couple of years. I mean, sure, we eat, but it's mostly heat and serve crap that I know is absolutely horrible for us. But in terms of making a meal where the actual components of the meal have to be cooked separately, I'm sorely out of practice. I made dinner on Saturday night and the kitchen was pure chaos for an hour. I timed everything wrong. I didn't know how long things needed to cook, so I kept asking Chris every few moments (have I ever mentioned how much he loves when people ask him cooking questions?). I was intermittently chopping veggies and checking on things on the stove, so instead of putting the sharp knife down, I would walk around with it. Blade side up, pointing outward toward the doorway to the kitchen. You know, just in case anybody ran up to me (as some people in this house are prone to do), they'd be greeted first by the blade of a sharp knife slicing into some part of their body. Yikes. In any case, it's like I told Chris: everything tastes good in the end, but the middle part is not unlike a Julia Child skit from SNL.