Every now and again I have to flex my cooking muscle. As I've explained before, Matt is the chef of the house. He cooks almost every meal, while I clean. That's been our arrangement for the past year. I've got to admit, I'm spoiled. He is an excellent cook, you know, one of those, "Gee, I'll toss this in with that, and use this over that and see what happens."
And what happens? It's delicious. Every time. So now and again, I feel the need to reassert myself in the kitchen. Just to prove to myself that I can still do it, so that at least I wont starve during his business trips.
I made tilapia and an Ina Garten inspired salad, with pound cake and strawberries. And if you'll notice, you'll see Mabel's plastic container of dog food sitting ever-so-closely on the counter. We're super classy around here folks.
I also discovered Mabel's kryptonite: strawberries. This dog (who lives to misbehave, snap at joggers' ankles and chase ducks) will sit like a statue for hours when she spots a strawberry. Just look at that intense glaze in her eyes. She nearly took my finger off, not that I blame her. There are plenty of days that I'd consider biting someone's finger to get at a strawberry, or chocolate. Mabel and I, we understand each other.
All in all, it turned out well. Whew, it's always good to know I haven't completely lost it. And now I can return to my dormant cooking stage; content to slide back into my nightly routine of eating, washing dishes, and reading a book while rolling my eyes as Family Guy blares in the background.
It's good to be queen.