I am convinced that I have the most wonderful man ever.
In celebration of Rick's birthday I thought I was quite the sly fox. I had the presents wrapped and out for him to see a day before his birthday. I called Rick this morning and asked for his mother's phone number to get some advice. I am sure he knew I was up to something but I don't think he knew what. I asked for and received directions on making one of his favorite dishes, chicken parmesan. I also picked up a birthday cake and candles. I was all set.
I started cooking per "Mom's" instructions. She had said to bread the chicken and then put in the frying pan on high heat. Once lightly seared you turn the heat down and fry a little more.
Did you know that you cannot tell that chicken parmesan is burning
until you smell it?
There was no excess smoke or anything so I listened for any tell tale signs of misfortune. I finally decided to turn the bird over and low and behold, we had Cajun blackened chicken parmesan! ::sigh::
At this point Rick appeared at the pass thru window and told me, "You do know that you need to use lower heats when cooking in a calphalon pan, don't you honey?". Why no, I don't know that. I cook how often? I have cooked chicken parmesan HOW many times? (ummm never) The burning might also have had something to do with my forgetting to put a little oil in the bottom of the pan before frying. I only realized THAT mistake the next day.
I was devastated. I had been so proud with trying to cook for my man. I turned the chicken breast over and promptly misjudged and burned the other side. The next breast came out somewhat better (probably due to me turning it every 5 seconds whether it needed it or not). I then placed the bird boobs (charcoal and all) into the baking dish.
I had done almost everything I was supposed to and the cheese on the top of the dish was absolutely beautiful. I doubt I will ever be able to make it that pretty again. It was so good, thick and gooey. It was the most beautiful golden brown color. It reminded me of the lovely tropical foliage that is spread over a tiger pit. Such a beautiful disguise for the disaster waiting below.
I served the salad and then the chicken. About a quarter way through my breast, I cut the rest into very small pieces. I told Rick that I just could not eat that crap. It was horrid! Ever have a burger that was left on so long that it was crunchy all the way through? It tasted just like that. Just awful! I dumped the remainder of my chicken into my dog's bowl. To his credit he ate it without complaint.
Then I looked over at Rick. Rick's plate was empty. He ate every bit of that horrible meal! And said thank you! Rick had only requested 1 gift specifically for his birthday. It required both of us in the same room and a lack of clothing. ::grin:: After eating the failed dinner attempt, my stomach was feeling not so good. I also had been up since early in the morning and still had to work the midnight shift that night. Rick asked if we could just lay down and cuddle (I think he noticed I was not feeling well). We took a nap for an hour and he sent me off to work with a kiss.
I have the best husband ever.
I would say that I have the best dog ever since he ate his without complaint also. But he eats cat shit, so what does he know?