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Crock Pot, Saver of Marriages

2 Dec

In the annals of history, I don’t think there will ever be a kitchen invention that will be more revered than the crock pot. It’s cheap, its easy to use, and you don’t have to think. You just throw some shit in there, put on the lid, and select one of two settings: ‘low’ or ‘high.’ For a complete lazy asshole like me, there is no better use of time and effort than the crockpot. I look like I worked hard on dinner, when in reality I read 250 pages of Calvin and Hobbes while drinking Session.

It uses less energy than a lightbulb (it’s scary to think that an incandescent bulb could potentially cook your food) and it makes your house smell like a french…um…cook…house. Seriously. There is nothing better than coming home from a long day in the salt mines and smelling braised beef stew coming from every nook and cranny. Is there anything the crock pot can’t do?

Well, there are a couple things I would like to see in a crock pot. I’m sure they make one with the features I am about to list, but it’s hard for me to justify a whole new purchase when I already have a perfectly functional crock pot, but this is my blog post, so I’ll say whatever the hell I want, and you have to accept it. Or I guess you could just stop reading, but where’s the fun in that?

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Day Six: I love it when a plan comes together

22 Nov

I’m not a planner. I never have been. I’m actually really lucky that I’m with Meg, because Meg can plan for things. For instance: a couple weeks ago, I went on a business trip for a week. I was scheduled to fly out on Sunday, and I didn’t bother to look at when the flight departed until Saturday. I forgot to do laundry, so I just loaded a plastic bag full of dirty clothes and crammed it in my duffel bag. I planned on doing laundry right away when I got to Durango. Instead, I just said “screw it” and took my clothes to a dry cleaner.

I had a razor-sharp crease in a pair of jeans for two weeks.

I tell you this story because you need to understand- if I can barely take the time to look up when a flight leaves for work, planning meals, which I already don’t care about,. is one of the most mind-numbing experiences of my life. I have actually gotten decent at planning meals the day of the meal in question, but anything beyond that is just a wing and a prayer.

This has been my solution up until this point: buy a whole bunch of shit that I don’t need, and hope that I will use it in some kind of recipe before it expires or goes bad. Since Meg and I only have one car, and she usually has roller derby practice, it’s up to me to figure out the majority of dinners. I can’t usually go to the grocery store because I’m incredibly lazy as soon as I get home and, as we’ve already ascertained, I don’t preplan for the ride home. This usually leads to one of two things: crappy chicken burritos, or eating out. If it’s just me at home (if Meg’s out of town or eating dinner with derby girls or whatever), then I’m good. Open the fridge, smell around for something not rotten, and eat it. If there’s nothing that isn’t rotten, find out which thing is the least rotten and eat that. Done and done.

Crock pots are rad, but usually require preplanning. The one exception is the greatest meal on the planet for lazy assholes, and one which I have memorized because there are FOUR INGREDIENTS:

Pollo Colorado

Chop up two yellow onions and two red bell peppers. Put them in the crockpot. Put in 2-3 frozen (I DON’T EVEN HAVE TO THINK ABOUT DEFROSTING!) chicken breasts, and cover that with a big can of red enchilada sauce (15 oz I think). Cook it on low for like 6 hours, or on high for two then on low for an hour or so. It makes a really good stew if you chop or shred the chicken, or you can remove the chicken and make fajitas or something. Done.

Anyway, the point of all this is that I need to get a better system going. Right now, we have to go to the grocery store like every day, which I can already tell is wearing thin on both of us. If I can get to the point where I can plan for two days, I will consider that a win. Maybe, in time, I will become some kind of incredible planning machine that is able to plan for a week at a time, buy everything on Sunday, and perfectly use every ingredient purchased come the following Sunday morning. That will not happen soon. I promise you that.

Today (okay, I’m writing this after the fact. I told you- not a planner) we ate:

Cereal and coffee
Sandwiches (we’re trying to cut out cheese, which I’m super excited about)
Fried chicken that Meg made for dinner
Butterscotch cookies that Meg made to try to warm up our freezing cold house while the heat was out

Any crazy awesome ideas to help me plan? Bring it on!!


Day four: Breakfast is better than anything else

20 Nov

That’s right. I’m not afraid to shake things up and go against the status quo. I’ll just come right out and say it:

Breakfast is the greatest thing on the planet.

Breakfast. It's not just Breakfast anymore.

You heard me, Mr. Lunchy McDinner of Dessertville, USA (I know you read this blog). Breakfast will always be better than you and your stupid steamed carrots.

Why do I love breakfast so much? Well, jeez. Let’s dive in and figure it out. Number one reason: it tastes delicious. I love, love, loveloveLOVELOVELOOOVELUUUURVE me some eggs. Eggs are fabulous things. Honestly, any meal that incorporates eggs into it (I’m looking at you and your sexy ass, Korean dolsot bibimbap) gets a pass in my book. Also, eggs add protein, which is important when you have to maintain an extremely high amount of muscle mass, like I pretend to.

Second reason: maple syrup. It comes from a tree and tastes like heaven. It’s like mother nature is making sweet, passionate love to my mouth, possibly using a maple tree branch to consummate the union. I’m quickly realizing that my first and second reason both revolve around the fact that breakfast is delicious, which might not seem like much of an argument, but that’s not my problem. It’s your fault for not immediately agreeing with me, Mrs. Doubtfire.

Robin Williams' Mrs. Doubtfire, who was very loosely based on the real Mrs. Doubfire, who was a gigantic mean old bitch.

That’s right. To be precise, her full name is Mrs. Freethinking Scofflaw Doubtfire-Cynic. It was an arranged marriage, and she decided to keep Mr. Cynic’s last name, as well as the hyphen. She thought it’d be easier that way. She drove him to an early grave, thanks to a mixture of nagging, scoffing, and his own predisposition towards heart disease.

My third reason also has to do with the wonderful taste of breakfast: specifically, biscuits. I can’t make them from scratch, but I am willing to try, if anyone has a recipe. Gravy is a perfect accompaniment to biscuits, and leads directly into my next reason:

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