(Almost) Success

Last night was my first night of cooking dinner in the new house.

There were few catastrophes.

The meal consisted of lemon pepper and herb chicken atop a bed of orzo and sauteed mushrooms, with an heirloom tomato and cucumber salad. The salad turned out great. The chicken was tasty, but a little dry (I always worry about under cooking chicken), and the orzo - which should have been the easiest part- was salvageable.

I guess I don't read directions well. I looked at the package of orzo (yes, I needed to read the package to see how to cook pasta), and saw: In a large pot, add four cups of water and heat to a rolling boil". Well, I added four cups of water and a little broth for added flavor, allowed it to hit a rolling boil, added the orzo, and waited for the water to return to a boil. Seems simple enough. But no, not for my poor misguided brain. As the orzo cooked, I noticed less and less liquid seemed to be in the pot. Now, I've made spaghetti, penne, and many other more common pastas plenty of times- I know what it's supposed to look like- and this looked wrong.

Just plain wrong.

I reached for the empty package and re-read the directions: Add four QUARTS of water to a large pot.

Dammit!

I quickly heated more liquid in a separate container, and then added that liquid to the already heated pasta. In the end, it tasted all right, but there was a good amount of orzo charred on the bottom of the pot. Pot ruined. Small oopsie, but it did make me a little discouraged. Well, I guess discouraged is the wrong word. I'll say, rather, it made me realize that I need to pay better attention to directions. When it comes to making my way around a kitchen, I am the man who constantly gets lost and refuses to ask for directions. Lesson learned.

Baby Steps

I am setting a small goal for myself. Very small. Teeny tiny, but for me, it's a good step in self-improvement. Are you ready for it? Are your inner drum rolls a-rolling?

I am going to cook a meal once a week.

Insert "oohs" and "ahhs" here.

I know, I know. For many people, perhaps everyone, this is not a feat that deems much recognition. For me, it is an accomplishment I can be happy with. I don't cook. I don't think I've cooked a real meal in my new house- ever. Tonight my dinner consisted of Flaming Hot Cheetos and a couple glasses of water, and a meal of this caliber is a normal occurrence. NOT something to be happy with. I'm not talking gourmet here (maybe gourmet every now and then, but let's not get ahead of ourselves), just a meal that involves more than piercing film with a fork and a microwave. So I will plan. I will try. I will cook. I will shine.

Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Out on Holiday

Life is too short to sit inside and blog. Well, maybe that's a little too dramatic. Let me try again...

Portland summers are too short to sit inside and blog.

That's better.

I've been under the sun, soaking up rays, floating in rivers, strolling through street festivals, and just admiring the beauty that is an Oregon summer.

My brain is too focused on "WEEEEEE! SUMMER!" to try and put fluid thoughts onto the screen.

I'll be back when the weather cools, the sky becomes gray, and everything feels damp and depressing- so goth. I do my best work when I'm feeling goth.