I hate cooking some days. No, that’s not true. I enjoy cooking all the time, but sometimes, I hate the results of my cooking.
A few weeks back, BDH and his family and I were discussing the fact that our meals had become a bit predictable as of late. Now, before we had gotten really involved in our last infertility cycle, I had been trying to make a couple of new dishes each week, to expand our repertoire and keep mealtimes interesting. But once we got involved in our extra-long cycle of doom, and we were tired and emotional and everything else, cooking was the last thing on our minds. We cooked for sustenance, and that was about it.
So hearing BDH talk about our tasty-yet-boring meals, I decided to try going back to making new meals during the week. I thought it might make for some interesting time spent researching and shopping and cooking during my days, as well as give us some variety in dinners and in the inevitable leftovers BDH takes for lunch.
When things go well, we are able to enjoy a nice, delicious meal, and I feel like I’ve accomplished something in my day. But when things go poorly, like today’s “Italian Chicken” mess in the crock pot, I get really peevish. I have wasted time, and money, and food, and I have nothing to show for it. Plus, I have to cook MORE food to make up for the inedible crap that I’ve spent the day on. It annoys me no end.
I hate wasting food. I’ll eat some of it, because … well, I made it, and SOMEONE should eat it. You can’t just go throwing that much food out. But I’ll be peevish the entire meal. And, no doubt, I’ll suffer indigestion afterwards — adding insult to injury.