I Hate Rachel Ray

Okay, maybe hate is a strong word.  But I do really get annoyed with her because I'm envious of her, and pretty much any woman that can throw a meal together with ease.  The way she whirls her large ass around the kitchen and somehow piles ALL the ingredients she needs with only one trip to the fridge into those arms of hers...I'll probably never have the ability to do.  I'm jealous...super jealous.  Why can't I throw some crap I have on hand and start with some "EVOO"  and create a delicious meal my husband would swoon for?

Well, for starters I never really learned how.  My mother was never much of a cook herself, and therefore I never knew much about working my way around the kitchen.  But I'm not going to blame my mom's super busy schedule on my inability to learn...cause obviously I picked up on other things, like baking.  But what I'm trying to convey, is that if we ever want a nice home cooked meal, seriously...Gerard HAS to make it.  That's just a fact.

Don't get me wrong, over the past year of marriage and earlier (yes, this weekend will be one year) I've tried my hand at a few recipes.  I use cookbooks, look up recipes on the internet, and really try my best to make a dish that will not only taste great, but won't burn my kitchen down.  So far, most of my meals consist of pure panic, anxiety, and a dash of love...which usually makes for okay meat, and blase sides.

Gerard has a flight home from Phoenix tonight, and he'll be home about 6 am.  He then has to go to work and give a presentation, so I figured he'd be in full-on asshole zombie mode.  What better time than tomorrow night to try and annoy him with one of my shitty home cooked meals?  Perfect!

Last night I thought I'd go get some groceries to start on my progress of being a good wife.  I spent a pretty penny and felt pretty good about most of what I purchased.  Only downside, is that I waited until today to actually figure out what I was going to make. 
Cooking for Geraldine gives me so much anxiety, that I usually come up a list of things for him to choose from...with the last 3-4 being recipes that I've already made him suffer through, or one of the gross concoctions I make for myself when he's out of town (just mark this as food he has no desire to eat). 

Today I emailed him a list of about 5 different choices, and he narrowed it down to the top 2.  Me being the really smart girl that I am, chose the recipe that I've never in my life made before, over the one that I've successfully created (yes! I have one!) and would only need to pick up one extra ingredient for.  But why make my life easy?!?  Really...that would make NO sense.  I wanted to be extra perfect for my zombie/asshole husband and went with this bad boy:

Apple Cider Pulled Chicken Sandwiches with Apple Slaw

Holy Fall...right?!  What a perfect meal for me to make!  (Well, I guess we'll technically have to wait and see).  I had to run to Kroger again tonight to get the rest of the ingredients I didn't have at home.  I spent 30 minutes walking around the joint looking for Apple Cider, one of the main ingredients of the dish.  After getting a very kind store associate to help me look (to make sure I wasn't illiterate) we came to the conclusion that the store does not YET carry apple cider.  Whaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaat?!?!  Holy panic.  What do you mean you don't carry apple cider.  Doesn't Walmart, the mall and every other store have shit out for Christmas?  How did Kroger not get the memo??  I was so upset that I somehow managed to pick yet another recipe that was going to cause me more stress than needed...what. a. shame.  I grabbed a $3 bottle of wine on my way out the door to head home and sulk.

It was on my way out of the parking lot I thought about going across the street to Publix.  Oh Publix, you were like a beacon guiding me through the night.  I walked right in (and since I rarely shop there wandered around like an idiot) and finally found the holy grail...my apple cider.  For Publix marked-up prices of course.

After 3 different grocery store trips, I finally drove home feeling pretty confident about tomorrow night's meal.  I went to unload the car with my amazing ingredients, smiling like an idiot because I felt like THE. BEST. WIFE. IN. THE. WORLD.

At that very moment something crashed at my feet.  Oh shit.  I feared that it would be one of my key ingredients, but no, far worse...it was my bottle of happiness.  My cheap wine.  I could have screamed.  I did curse...

I decided I had to man-up and clean the mess, and then I realized that I needed to use my head.  I grabbed a plastic cup and sat the dirty bag of glass shards in it.  Wine was still pouring out of the holes in the bag like a champagne fountain at a wedding...I had to act fast!!  It was a like a Vietnam flashback...so yes, this is what I did:

I made sure to strain the glass shard wine, so that maybe I could salvage some...just any of the bottle that was just soaking into the concrete.  As you can see, I got enough for one glass.  Sure I might now have some bleeding in the mouth...but to me, it was worth every drop.

I just hope tomorrow's meal turns out to be worth all the trouble. If not, I'm going to start watching every episode of Rachel Ray to learn what that slut knows.