I know that may sound ominous, and I've definitely asked myself this question A LOT over the last several months, but this instance refers to my idea to cook one of my favorite (yet not time consuming) dinners. I was so excited! I made a grocery list, picked up everything from Publix, and was all set with my week of planned dinners. Should be easy right?
I love cooking! LOVE it! It's one of the things I miss most about juggling an infant now. So while Colgan was napping, and I try to do everything while he's napping, I marinated the pork tenderloin and prepped what needed to be prepped.
All ready! How did I do that?!! Colgan gets up, has a snack and starts playing. Come the appropriate time, I start cooking! Excited that Colgan is going to have something yummy and new for dinner! My favorite pork tenderloin with parmesan polenta! Did I mention I was excited that this was something new and not turkey meatloaf again or some lame chicken thing I cooked up last minute?
Well, I was grilling the pork on the stove since I can't turn on the grill without potentially catching myself on fire, and it was taking longer than I expected, BUT we were still in the "cooking dinner" window and not the COLGAN NEEDS TO EAT RIGHT NOW WINDOW...or, so I thought...
Half way through, complete meltdown - he's crying and if he could talk was saying, I WANT TO EAT RIGHT NOW! Sigh.
I'm not sure the pork is cooked all the way through, so I have to bag that. The sauce I was in the middle of making got scrubbed too, after I scorched the shallots. So much for cooking and all of the contentment and relaxation it used to bring me.
I throw a chicken patty in the microwave, heat up some left over veggies and give him the polenta. Not exciting in the least. But, he was eating and happy. Mom on the other hand was staring blankly at the mess of a kitchen wondering, what could I have been thinking?
