A volcano in our kitchen

Joe loves me.
So much, in fact- he has taken it on himself to make me orange chicken and to fine-then the recipe for our family.
Tonight, we made orange chicken.
It was nearly 8:00 pm, and this pregnant chic was getting cranky as she warded off the toddler with measuring spoon in hand from the dog food.
But at last- dinner was almost ready.
Rice was done.
Chicken was just about cooked through.
All that was left to do was add the cornstarch which he had mixed together with some water in a little bowl, to the orange sauce.
I watched him add it.
THEN, to both of our surprise- we watched as the orange sauce preceded to fizz up and bowl over the pot.

*blink blink*
Me: what was that?
Joe: cornstarch. *looks at counter and picks up container* OR baking soda.
Me: *noticing the vinegar sitting out with the rest of the ingredients* you used vinegar, huh?
Joe: yep.

There went my dinner being done "on time" and to having a clean stove for more than an hour.
But hey, it was fun while it lasted.

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It's Wednesday! A penny for your thought?

Just to get you thinking.

+ I finished a horrible book today. I had checked it out 3 weeks ago, and while I decently enjoyed it, I hated the book. The book is called Wives Behaving Badly by Elizabeth Buchan. I had picked it up and read what it was about, and somehow, oddly, thought it was going to be COMPLETELY different than it actually was. It was rather borring, and ended horribly. But I had to finish it.

+Sariah is sick again. Which I used to not mind- she used to sleep great when she slept. In fact, she is taking a nap right now and doing pretty good. But last night was horrible. She had to sleep with us and I do not like having her sleep with us. I end up sleeping horribly, and wake up having my back all contorted.

+I suck at 'simmering' anything. It is my curse in life. How does one actually know if it is simmering properly if you are always supposed to keep it covered?

+I love to watch the AKC championship on Thanksgiving, much more than the parade.

+In this blogger's blog post over here, she talks about fighting in marriage. I was reading through the comments and I had to laugh at all the newlyweds and people who weren't even dating who were like, "We never fight. Sometimes we bicker though", but then all the people who had been married for over a year, could all attest to fights in marriage. It's natural people. It doesn't have to be yelling and screaming either. And bickering is just a nice way of saying you fight without making yourself feel bad.

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Today, fried chicken danced in my head.

As I drove about the town today, doing who know's what (Actually- I was walking, now that I take time to think about it). A thought popped into my head: Fried chicken.
Friend chicken with a side of the fluffiest white potatoes and a slab of butter you have ever seen. Paired with equally fluffy biscuits and another slab of butter. Soul mates. But three is better then two- right? So add on another slab of butter onto a corn of cob- and OH MY GOODNESS. You have an American dream come true.

I had a mission. Eat my American dream.
You may suppose my dream is: shallow, fake, ridiculous, sad. But I find it GRATIFYING (have I mentioned that I LOVE puns?). I raced home and whipped on my apron, set Sariah to playing with her new favorite toy: steel cut oats (that girl finds the craziest things!), and set to work.

Step 1: Realize that you may not have everything you need in your kitchen.
Sometimes, when you have such a BRILLIANT dream in place, you get so caught up- and you just assume everything you need is magically in your kitchen. But, if you are anything like me- you HATE making anything if you do not have all the ingredients. SO! Compromise must happen.

After I realized I did not have enough chicken, corn on the cob, or the energy to make this unhealthy, gall bladder dying food, I sunk into despair. My stomach growled for days filled with fried food. But then I got over it, got up, and made something else.

Step 2: Make pizza. 
Which probably took just as long as fried chicken- but was possibly the best pizza you will ever hear about. Truly, it was a masterpiece. My only regret is that it wont survive the weekend. (But totally adapted into chicken/artichoke hearts/alfredo pizza to fit our family's love).

Step 3: Never give up on your dreams.
I know that one day, I will reach my American dream. I will eat my friend chicken, sided with mashed potatoes, biscuits, and corn on the cob. I might even throw in an apple pie.
It will be a day to mark in history. It will be a day to celebrate. It will be fantastic. I will watch out for that day, and keep waiting for it.
One day, my fried chicken will come.

Until then,

Keep Calm and east some pizza.

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