Crock Pot Cooking
Back when I was young, single, and obnoxious, whenever someone would ask about my ability to cook, I made a rather crude joke. “My future husband will have the choice between take-out and breastmilk!” I’d declare, with an attitude, mind you. I’m a modern woman; I cook for no man, bitches!
In truth, it’s not so much that I am (or was) a bad cook, it was simply that I didn’t have the patience to read a reciepe, compile ingredients, and wait for something to boil, simmer, bake … whatever.
Fast forward 10 years: I’m now married with a bun cooking in my own oven. Somehow, in the course of these past 10 years, I’ve become blissfully domesticated. It started when I moved back to Mexico to be with Edgar, and we moved into our quant apartment in Playa del Carmen. My proudest accomplishment was making a spaghetti dish with mini shrimp. That was exotic! And gourmet!
Last week I bought a crock-pot. This is the lazy cookers’ dream. (Or so I thought) You just chop a bunch of raw vegtables, thrown ’em in the pot, toss in some meat, and after about 6 hours – viola – a hearty meal!
But even the crock pot has rules. Here are some “tips” the instruction manual provided:
- “Brown the meat before you cook it in the crock pot”
- “If adding frozen meat, you must add 1 quart of warm water to account for the temperature change”
- “Beans should be soaked and boiled for at least 30 minutes prior to cooking in crock pot”
- “Milk and cheese should be added in the last 15 minutes of cook time”
Wait … what? I acutally have to follow instructions? There are actually rules? I can’t just throw stuff in the pot, lay on the couch and watch TV? Grrr. This crock pot thing is a sham!
I still went ahead and made my first chicken vegetable soup. And lo and behold, I got a pretty darn good soup out of it. My next try will probably be chili, which seems a bit more involved. I hope I don’t burn the house down.