Meh Meals

Finmiki via Padlet

Last night's dinner creation involved trying a new marinade and a new recipe for potatoes. I'm sorry to report that both dishes turned out to be "meh" -- after an hour in the kitchen -- squelching the enthusiasm I'd had about making something new and yummy and inviting a reprise of one of my favorites: Is it any wonder I hate to cook? 

All I could think of was all of the more satisfying ways in which I could have spent that hour.

Today, for example, it's 6 PM on an every-(wo)man-for-her/himself Wednesday. This dinner arrangement is  possible only because our household is made up of adults and nearly always has a refrigerator full of leftovers on Wednesdays. This means I can be sitting at my computer composing this post -- something I find much more satisfying than spending an hour creating a dinner that's just "meh"  -- instead of leafing through recipes trying to figure out what everyone will eat.

It was the collision of two things -- finally organizing a collection of haphazardly strewn recipes and the arrival of a pandemic -- that made me get more serious about cooking. Add to that a young adult who moved home after graduating during said pandemic -- and was diagnosed with Celiac disease -- and what's a mother to do?

Even a mother whose favorite kitchen companion was the I Hate to Cook Book.

Some nights -- many nights -- I go with the old standards. And I'm lucky. My family eats pretty much whatever I prepare, with very few complaints. But I've also tried to be more cognizant of how much I make from scratch and how much comes out of a box. Some nights, the new stuff turns out well and a new dish is added to the rotation.

And then there are the nights like last night.

Usually, I chalk up dinner disasters (okay, they're not usually that bad) to my heart not being in it (as evidenced by this post). But other times, I flip through my book of neatly organized, plastic-encased recipes and, excited by the possibilities, decide to get creative.

But my dinners never look like the ones on Pinterest. And, although I can only imagine what those dinners taste like, I suspect they taste better than mine, too.

I'll keep at it, but mostly because we have to eat. Given my druthers, I'd prefer to be in my office, creating paragraphs on my laptop, instead of creating combinations in the kitchen.

But, if ever hit the lottery, I'm hiring a chef.