Every time we get a rotisserie chicken, I feel bad about throwing out the carcass. This time, budgeting inspired me to put in some extra effort. I finally found a recipe online for something other than stock and printed out the directions and about 40 pages of comments. Ah, online recipes. I didn’t have to buy anything crazy and the woman swore her kids went back for thirds, so I had a winner.
I knew I wanted to bake some rolls because really, homemade chicken soup and fresh, warm rolls? What could be better? I am Martha Frickin Stewart. The chicken carcass bathed in the crock pot all night and yesterday morning I prepped the rest while Chris picked the chicken. Thanks babe, I hate that part. All day long the soup cooked and when we got home I smelled something weird, but then it settled into something better- also known as the "Oh, that's dinner" moment of recognition.
The idea behind the crockpot is to not heat up the house with the oven, but we forgot to put the little AC unit back on COOL instead of FAN, so it was about 400 degrees in there. That may be a slight exaggeration because if it was that hot I could have baked the rolls in the living room. I didn’t want to make the house any hotter, so I just decided to wait until the sun went down to start the rolls and told Chris we’d be eating late. We had a snack and listened to the music he’s been working on, watched a movie, and took the dogs to the park. Around 9, he tasted the soup.
“How is it?”
“Pretty good,” he said. “I’m hungry.”
Around 10 I found him in the kitchen hovering over a tray of rising rolls.
"Those haven't even been baked yet, Chris."
“But I’m HUNGRY!”
Finally it’s 11 o’clock and we sit down to eat. Look at me go, with my fresh bread and soup from scratch. We dive in, each gobbling a couple spoonfuls. Then we slow down. Then we look at each other.
“This is weird,” he says.
“Yeah…” as I reach for a roll.
We chew slower.
“This is awful. Where did you get this recipe?”
“But she said her kids loved it!” I went to grab the reviews.
Page after page are comments like, “Ooh, looks delicious!” and “…can’t wait to try it!” But where are all the people who made it? Out googling other recipes, I imagine.
Chris went searching for something more edible and came back yelling, “Carrots! My dinner is carrots and bread!”
Yeah, yeah. It would have been much more tolerable to wait until 11 if dinner had been awesome. I found a frozen French bread pizza for him and as he was nuking it he was muttering things like:
“…WHYyouneedtoEXPERIMENT…HUNGRY…havetowaitforDINNER…”
Nevermind how often he asks me to make more interesting meals. Oh well. One crock pot recipe down, 4 million to go…
And on a barely related note, I was eating my lunch and tried to rinse my grape tomatoes over the trash can because I was too lazy to go to the sink. Actually, it’s because there is a lecherous person on the way to the sink who makes his appreciation of me uncomfortably apparent. But I tried to rinse off the tomatoes and ended up dropping the whole damn thing in the trash can. Smooth.
