I received a text message last night informing me that I needed to update my blog (thank you, Liana) so here I am. Sorry I've been so lackadaisical about it lately.
So I have just three weeks of school left! It feels like this year has absolutely flown by, but I'm ready for summer! I'm excited for my first summer as a married woman, and Nathan and I have lots of plans.
The thing I'm MOST looking forward to is our trip out to Montana in June to see the baby. Of course, at this rate, he might not be here in June. He may just stay in Sheryl forever. (Did you know the gestation period of an elephant is like 18 months? Not that that's relevant here.) Becky, Joel, Laney, Matt, Emily, Nathan and I are all piling into a vehicle and driving out to a cabin in the mountains. We plan to do some hiking (if I can keep my allergies under control) spend some time in Bozeman with Sheryl and Cody, and just chill with the family. I'm pretty excited...there are few people in this world I love as much as my siblings!
So this weekend Mom and I are going to South Dakota with our Junior Olympics volleyball team...this tournament wraps up our season, which is rather sad. The only thing I enjoy more than playing volleyball is being on stage. In a way, they are similar to me. I get the same rush of adreniline. I missed playing so much, and coaching filled in for that a bit. I am hoping to find a coaching position for a younger team in the fall, so hopefully I'll have that to look forward to.
Anyway, I'm going to go make another cup of green tea...with honey, of course. I've become an addict.
Love to all!!!
Lissa Hoarn
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Fail
So tonight I decided to make a lovely dinner for my wonderful, wonderful husband. I was in the mood to try something new, so I found what looked like a great recipe for lemon poppy seed chicken. The recipe was really simple: not many ingredients, and basic instructions.
Apparently, it wasn't simple enough. Either that, or I suck. However, in this case, I choose, for my own self esteem, to blame the recipe. (Not that my self-esteem needs help.)
It was TERRIBLE. First I had a little problem with the butter. The recipe called for a half stick of butter, melted in a sauce pan, to brown the chicken with. Then I removed the chicken, as directed, to add the next ingredient. However, by the time the chicken was sufficiently browned, the butter was also brown, and in some spots, burned. So I kept the chicken, and dumped the butter, because it is supposed to be a part of the sauce. So I remelted butter til it looked like the picture (don't laugh) and then added the next ingredient: two tablespoons of flour.
Ok, so shouldn't a recipe tell you that the flour is going to chunk up into nasty little fried turdy looking things??? Out went that batch of butter and flour. The third time around I got it right. I applied the "cornstarch" method to flour (mixing it with a little cold water first) which I probably should have figured out the first time, but hey, give me credit.
So once that road bump was behind me, I followed the recipe to perfection! (I swear!) I finished the sauce, put the chicken back in the pan, and let it simmer for the proper amount of time. Then the fatal tasting. I almost spit it back out. It was bitter, and nasty, and did not taste at all like anything ANYONE would want to put on a nice dish of chicken and pasta. After several minutes of adding things to try to make it better (didn't work) I called on my husband to taste it.
He still claims that it wasn't that bad. He fiddled around with it for a while, then said that he would gladly have it for dinner, but I found a better place for it.
That's right...it all went down the sink. Luckily for us, Nathan can cook fantastically, and of course, in his effort to be unfailingly, annoyingly good at EVERYTHING, he never uses a recipe. After graciously telling me that it hadn't really been that bad, he made his own, much better, version of lemon poppy seed chicken.
However, my cooking skills were not a complete failure. We used the same chicken, which, despite having sat in that awful concoction for a good part of an hour, had acquired a lovely, moist, light, lemony flavor. And of course, I made the most important part of the whole meal.
No one boils spaghetti like I do. No one.
Love to all,
Lissa
Apparently, it wasn't simple enough. Either that, or I suck. However, in this case, I choose, for my own self esteem, to blame the recipe. (Not that my self-esteem needs help.)
It was TERRIBLE. First I had a little problem with the butter. The recipe called for a half stick of butter, melted in a sauce pan, to brown the chicken with. Then I removed the chicken, as directed, to add the next ingredient. However, by the time the chicken was sufficiently browned, the butter was also brown, and in some spots, burned. So I kept the chicken, and dumped the butter, because it is supposed to be a part of the sauce. So I remelted butter til it looked like the picture (don't laugh) and then added the next ingredient: two tablespoons of flour.
Ok, so shouldn't a recipe tell you that the flour is going to chunk up into nasty little fried turdy looking things??? Out went that batch of butter and flour. The third time around I got it right. I applied the "cornstarch" method to flour (mixing it with a little cold water first) which I probably should have figured out the first time, but hey, give me credit.
So once that road bump was behind me, I followed the recipe to perfection! (I swear!) I finished the sauce, put the chicken back in the pan, and let it simmer for the proper amount of time. Then the fatal tasting. I almost spit it back out. It was bitter, and nasty, and did not taste at all like anything ANYONE would want to put on a nice dish of chicken and pasta. After several minutes of adding things to try to make it better (didn't work) I called on my husband to taste it.
He still claims that it wasn't that bad. He fiddled around with it for a while, then said that he would gladly have it for dinner, but I found a better place for it.
That's right...it all went down the sink. Luckily for us, Nathan can cook fantastically, and of course, in his effort to be unfailingly, annoyingly good at EVERYTHING, he never uses a recipe. After graciously telling me that it hadn't really been that bad, he made his own, much better, version of lemon poppy seed chicken.
However, my cooking skills were not a complete failure. We used the same chicken, which, despite having sat in that awful concoction for a good part of an hour, had acquired a lovely, moist, light, lemony flavor. And of course, I made the most important part of the whole meal.
No one boils spaghetti like I do. No one.
Love to all,
Lissa
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)