Electric Meals

So, my mother purchased an electric skillet for us, and then sent money so we could buy meat to cook in it. All because I happened to mention I cannot cook worth a damn on an electric stove. I need flames. Flames of inspiration for my writing. Flames of passion for my love life. And flames of fire for cooking. But Mother assured me that electric skillets aren't far from a gas stove in that they distribute the heat evenly.

I gave it a go. Cooked two meals of chicken quarters. Bought a package of six quarters (that doesn't make sense, does it) and cooked three at a shot. The skillet does have a nice temperature setting and I had no alternative but to trust it. But the meat did cook all the way through. Covered the quarters with spices and cooked, turning them every couple of minutes because Spouse kept telling me the way I was doing it was wrong and that the meat was going to stick. (I didn't use oil. We didn't have any. Don't like cooking in it anyway.) The meat didn't stick, and I added two cans of cream of mushroom soup. (Minnesota's #1 spice.) Then Spouse peeled some potatoes, cut them into small pieces and dumped them in, too.

Came out well. I liked it anyway. So I made it again last night. Went to the meat market today and spent the rest of the money Mother sent on a good-sized sirloin steak. Going to make steak pizzaiola. I like it and so does Son. Spouse thinks it's okay. Basically, the meat is cut into pieces, about a quarter pound each. They are hammered kind of flat and then covered with a flour and spice mixture. Cook them in the skillet until they are brown through and through and then add tomato sauce with garlic, oregeno and few other things. Serve over choice of pasta. I didn't buy pasta, but we have one small box left, so I win. We can get one, maybe two meals out of that box yet.

I like cooking. I'd do it all the time if we could afford it. And if I wouldn't be the only one eating what I made most of the time. Spouse only tolerates my cooking. I use too much garlic, marjoram, and fennel to suit her. Son is only now beginning to tolerate meat. He eats chicken nuggets, steak on the grill (we won't be having that for a while), and now steak pizzaiola. He doesn't like mushrooms, though.

So while I make a fantastic lasagne (people have raved to me about it, seeking second and third helpings - and even asking the recipe), great roast, pasta fajioli, shrimp florentine (Spouse likes this one, but shrimp doesn't come cheap), chicken wild rice soup, chili, goulash (tomato or mushroom soup variety), and even pizza, I don't do a lot of cooking. Virtually none since I lost my gas stove. If it can't heat up in a microwave, stuff it.

Well, I have this electric skillet now. Used it twice now and I've been happy. But I'm missing my kitchen with the center island and all the counter space and cupboards. And one of my favorite pans was ruined by that blasted electric stove. Burned a grid mark right into the bottom. That's happening to my pasta boiler, too. Yeah, I know. If we could afford real pots and pans that wouldn't happen. But one real pot or pan cost more than my entire cookware. With the exception of my lasagne pan. Got that a long time ago. It's great. It's huge. I never use it anymore. But I refused to let Spouse sell it at the garage sale. It costs enough that we'll never get another one if we sell it.

Anyway, it's probably going to be a bit before I post again. I just - don't anymore. I haven't the emotional energy to keep up anymore. If you are feeling especially incoherent, you can check out The Great Sea. Whenever I post here I've also posted there. I would like to post to the other four: Cat in the Buff, Legion of On-Line Super Heroes, Tales From The Great Sea, Faith in Forgiveness. The problem is, whenever I think about it for more than a minute or two I start to break down and cry. Just not ready yet. It takes enough out of me just to post one a week on two.

Don't know when I'll post again.