Saturday, March 07, 2009

Smitten Kitchen, I'm not.

I am up at Darwin's this weekend. Mostly, I am pottering around in the grey early March weather complicating his grocery shopping with demands like "No, the good kind of juice," and using my exception good luck to help him win things like giant cheese baskets, but I make occasional forays into other Darwin-related hobbies: eye-rolling, sweatpants stealing, absconding with his clean towels, monopolizing the kitchen table with a horrifying array of law books. You know, the usual.

He's happier about my being here than you might imagine- I really am very pleasant in person, Internet.

Anyway, today, we decided that we would have a laze around the house, academic-style day. The vile, Eeyore-y weather outside was a perfect invitation to make comfort food, so we trotted off to the grocery store to get supplies. After a number of Motherly Cell Phone Consultations, we opted for "Beef & Noodles." I suppose you could say that that was where the trouble started.

Beef and Noodles (not stroganoff, gag), is a recent addition to my culinary routine introduced by The AntiGunner's mother, at the strident insistence of the AntiGunner. The dish is delicious in its (apparent) simplicity- it mostly consists of egg noodles and shredded, roasted beef in some sort of brown sauce. If you share my unique culinary history, Internet, the initial concept of this may really weird you out. Roast beef does not go on noodles, it goes on mashed potatoes. You're going to have to trust me on this one, though- it really is quite good. I am not doing a good job describing this in a way that does not sound like cat food, but suffice it to say that it is tasty, and full of meat and carbs (my two favorite food groups).*

Good sell, right? Anyway, though we consulted our respective Nobody and Darwinian mothers about the Great Crockpot Project of 2009, neither Darwin or I bothered to consult the AntiGunner's mom. Instead, we decided that "it can't be that tough," and just guessed on ingredients. Upon our return home and subsqeunt googling, it became clear that, even over a myriad of recipes, the only ingredient that we had correctly guess was the noodles- we somehow managed to even buy the wrong cut of beef. Go team.

Not to be deterred, I decided that we should forge ahead anyway, and ad lib as we went along. Darwin got relegated to Cheese and Cracker Duty, and I indulged my abiding love of browning meat, before dumping our soon-to-be delicious concoction in the crock pot. That was 3 hours ago. Yum! Simmering meaty goodness!

Except (there is always an except, Internet): Darwin has just informed me that there is good news, and there is bad news. The good news is that the meat experiment smells delicious. The bad news is that I apparently set the crock pot to "warm" instead of "cook," and now we have a pot full of delicious-smelling, tepid beef.

Mmm. Tasty. We're getting Mexican for dinner.

*Aside: This a constant terror for me. Things in thick or gelantous sauce will draw an unexpected cat food comparison, and then I can. not. eat. them.


All rights reserved to my snotty and generally self-deprecating writing. And if your comments bother me, I'll delete them. That's right, pumpkin.
...How dreary—to be—Somebody!
How public—like a Frog—
To tell one's name—the livelong June—
To an admiring Bog!
-- Emily Dickinson