Iron Chef Third Street

Okay, so Karen and I are not the best blog updaters. Deal with it. We have lives. Or at least we like to pretend we do. Actually, I don't have much of a life, which is why I rarely have anything interesting to post. And nothing horribly interesting has happened lately, so I'm going to write about an event that occured at the beginning of first semester, but was thinking about today because of something the pastor mentioned at church. So now I want you to close your eyes and think way back to the end of August, when your notebooks were still empty and the days were still warm, but the nights were chilly, hinting that fall was just around ther corner...

One August night, Kate, Lauren, and I decided that we were going to cook a nice family dinner. This was back when we were still excited with having a kitchen and cooking for ourselves, before we realized that cooking is extremely overrated and dorm food isn't actually that bad. But I digress. Lauren, being the master chef that she is, was doing most of the cooking, while Kate and I were pretending to help by watching TV. Our friend Schooff was going to come eat with us, but she lives in a land far, far away called Urbana. So Lauren needed to go pick Schooff up, but she told us that we needed to watch the food while she went to grab Schooff. Super. So Kate and I mosey on over to the kitchen and scope out the scene. The chicken had just finished thawing out and the rice was on the stove. Yum. So Kate's like, "I think we're supposed to wash the chicken off, that's what my mom does." I agree, because I know nothing about cooking. So we wash the chicken and then decide that we should also cut the fat off because it looks really gross. So we're thinking that we're doing pretty good at this point. The next 20 minutes or so of our cooking experience goes something like this:

Me: Ummm...the rice is looking kind of watery. Should we drain it?
Kate: I don't think you're supposed to drain rice. Maybe just give it some time. But I think we can put the chicken on the George Foreman now. (Put chicken on Foreman)

5 minutes pass...
Me: You think we should check the chicken?
Kate: Probably (opens lid). Well, it doesn't look done yet. Maybe we should put some spices on it (seasons chicken).

10 minutes pass...
Kate: Alright, it should be done by now
Me: (opens lid) I don't know, it still doesn't look like it's cookign very fast. I thought these things were supposed to cook super fast...
Kate: Maybe we need to flip it. Yeah, that will probably make it cook faster (flips chicken).

5 more minutes pass...
Me: (cuts middle of chicken) uhhh...it still doesn't look done. Like, at all.
Kate: what should we do?
Me: I feel like maybe it just takes a little while to cook. Let's just go watch tv and wait for Lo to get home.

A little while later, Lauren walks through the door and sees us sitting on the couch, watching tv.
Lo: What are you guys doing??
Me: Oh, we're just watching tv. That Foremen takes forever to cook. (Lauren walks into the kitchen)
Lo: Well, in order to cook food you usually need to PLUG THE FOREMAN IN.

And that is why Kate and I are the worst cooks ever. Although I did make turkey burritos the other night and they were pretty delicious.

Keep it real.

T-Rex