Cooking is not my thing.
Let me repeat.
Cooking is NOT my thing.
I somehow missed out on all the mandatory kitchen lessons when I was growing up. When I married, I only knew how to bake chocolate chip cookies. I mean, I could try other things, but no promises. When I met this boy who loved to cook, I traded deals with him. I'd do all the laundry if he'd do all the cooking. I'd even wash a dish or two occasionally. It seemed like a match made in heaven. I started doing laundry. And somehow, all that cooking never really happened.
In the last couple weeks, I've felt inspired to be more. I should have known this would only bring trouble. Anyway, I collected about a dozen new recipes and for nearly two weeks, we had a new meal every single day. My fridge was overflowing with left overs.
Imagine my excitement when I made a shrimp recipe that my husband loudly proclaimed, over and over, and over again, that it was "definitely the best thing you've ever made". He then proceeded to call his dad and bonus mom and invite them to dinner so I could make this beautiful meal. Have I mentioned that bonus mom is one of those talented cooks who can just make stuff up and it tastes great? I can call her and tell her I'm missing twelve of the necessary fourteen ingredients and she'll invent, spontaneously, a new perfect recipe that amazes everyone. Sometimes I really want to hate her. But she's such a good cook...and often I get to eat with her...so I can't hate her.
Anyway, tonight is the night I attempt to remake the "best meal ever" -- Shrimp Fritters.