There was a time when I could create a whole meal for the family and not worry about how bad it was going to be. Somehow in the last year and a half I have lost everything I had learned. Granted it was not much to begin with, but I could at least make the signature meals. I could handle, Tacos, enchiladas, chicken and rice, and even a whole meal of chicken, egg rolls, rice, and pot stickers. Now I cannot make any of it.
Tonight the elders came again. I choose an easy dish, anyone can make it. My younger brothers and sisters have successfully made it. Who knew that it could be screwed up. Apparently it can. The chicken didn't finish cooking (note to the world: putting together casseroles before you are completely awake in the morning is not the best idea) and the rice didn't either. On an ironic notethe exact same dish assembled by my roommate and cooked in the exact same oven came out perfect.
It wasn't as horrible as the enchilada debacle of March. But still wasn't as good as I want. Is the outcome of our various efforts ever as good we want them? Uh-Oh...I am starting to think. Not something I want to do at 3:20 am. Dryer is almost done.
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