Monday, November 1, 2010

How The Pioneer Woman stole my husband

I have only myself to blame.

It started with a recipe.

Doesn’t it always?

It’s no secret that I’m not exactly what you would call domestic and cooking isn’t anywhere on my list of fun things to do. I know, gasp!! The horror!! I’m a pitiful excuse for a woman. First the hair, now this. It’s a wonder I ever trapped a man to begin with.

We need to eat, so I make food. Usually not fancy food. Or food with lots of ingredients. The smaller the mess the sooner I can get back to doing something important, like trying to persuade my daughter that while technically you CAN wear plaid and polka dots together, it’s not always a good idea. I’m a big fan of grilled chicken and steamed vegetables. I'm an even bigger fan of Pei Wei carry out. It’s not very imaginative, but it does the trick. I’m not Martha Stewart, or Ree Drummond. So what? I have many other fine qualities. (Why are you laughing?)

On the other hand, my husband, the Hot Sauce King, loves to cook. He’s never satisfied with a recipe; he thinks everything can be improved. That’s how we got into this mess. For YEARS I've been using the same meatloaf recipe. It’s a fine recipe. I’d even go so far as to say it’s a good recipe.

But, according to my husband, not good enough.

He just knew that somewhere there was a recipe that was just a little better. One that had that special something.

Tired of listening to him complain, I casually said, “You should check out The Pioneer Woman, I’ve never had bad luck with any of her recipes. Plus she’s a huge butter fan.” I showed him to her website and left it at that. Little did I know that my world would never be the same.

Oh, he found a meatloaf recipe all right, and a gravy recipe, a breakfast burrito recipe, a steak sandwich recipe…….Every time I passed by the office he was there, pouring over the Cowboy Cooking section, printing recipes and making shopping lists.

“She’s awesome! Did you know she burps?”

Um, ew!! And duh!! Everyone burps! Some of us just treasure our dignity more than others.

This morning I decided to bake something, when my husband noticed me in the kitchen (making one last desperate attempt to win back his heart) the first thing he asked was if these were Ree’s muffins (apparently they’re on a first name basis now). “No, America’s Test Kitchen” I answered. “Hmpf, I bet she’s got something better, I’ll go take a look”. And there he sits.

I suppose I’m just going to have to accept it.

I’m no match for a woman who makes gravy with real cream and burps.

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