Our weekend has been full of football and friends and girlfriends and family and sweat and someone complaining, “I just spent thirty minutes of my life vacuuming; I need a large Coke to compensate! I’m like 99% parched here!”
I’d tell you all about it, but I don’t have the time right now, because listen, people.
We are cooking.
Oh, yes! We are!
Hubs grilled a pork shoulder (also known as a Giant Chunk of Fatty Meat Equal in Weight to a Standard, Overweight Poodle) a couple of nights ago, and now he has had the hairbrained idea to make green chili with it, because he is in the mood for amazing Mexican food.
Since I don’t speak any Spanish more detailed than counting to ten or what is required of me to place a simple order at Taco Bell, I question whether this will turn out to be AMAZING Mexican food, but we’re giving it a shot. The kitchen looks like a blender was turned on, minus the lid. Hubs just looked at me and said, “Well, I vacuumed for thirty minutes yesterday, so YOU’RE in charge of cleaning this cooktop after the chili is done.”
Hubs is apparently all about the equal rights.
Hubs also let me know that if I had my own cooking show, it would be cancelled before the third episode aired, because I talk nonstop, but not about the food, and he has a difficult time keeping track of the conversations. I told Hubs that if HE had a cooking show, it would be cancelled before the SECOND EPISODE aired, simply because Hubs has left every single cupboard and drawer WIDE OPEN that he has gotten into during Mission Amazing Mexican Food. I’ve NEVER seen a cooking show with all the cupboard doors thrown wide open, exposing the messy stacks of glasses and bowls to the television audience.
Cat 2 took full advantage of an open bottom cupboard, and she climbed right inside.
Clearly, our cooking show is aimed more at the Animal Planet viewing audience than the Food Network’s.
Or maybe even Oprah, where all the talking happens.
Or happened, as the case may be.
And one more thing?
When the green chili (also known as Mission [Hopefully] Amazing Mexican Food) is finished, we’re making Creme Brulee, because the boy has had a hankering for it.
And honestly, I don’t think the hankering is for the actual dessert. I’m pretty sure his ENORMOUS DESIRE to make the Creme Brulee is all about the handheld propane torch that is required to scorch the top of it, because FIRE! FIRE! FIRE! Oh, how the eleven-year-old boys love the fire!
I think it goes without saying that I have officially stepped plum out of my comfort zone with all this kitchen work.
My personality is geared more toward vacuuming the kitchen floor and shutting cabinet doors than to dicing hogback and jalapenos and cilantro.
Happy Sunday night, y’all.