So, I don’t talk about it here because there are a gazillion food bloggers far more talented than I, but I really love cooking. A lot. I find it relaxing and fun, and I enjoy having yummy dinners and lunches and good food.
The other reason I don’t blog it much is because I am not a recipe person. Sure, if I am baking, I will be bent over a book and leveling off my flour and all that jazz, but a dinner recipe would involve something like, “Uhhh, cook some chicken in a pan with olive oil and water so it’s not dry, and add a lot of garlic. No, more garlic! NO, REALLY…MORE GARLIC!” and then throwing in a bunch of random ingredients that mesh until you have something delicious.
Andrew gets nervous as he watches me dance around the kitchen, all mad-scientist like, throwing in more vinegar or salt or what have you. He likes numbers and science and teaspoons and servings. And y’all, I don’t have that for my cooking.
This brings us to today. Andrew was texting me nervously from the grocery store, as he is planning to make my Honey Mustard chicken for tonight’s dinner. For me, this process involves thawing chicken, mixing up some honey and mustard ’til it “looks good”, letting it marinate and cooking it. Andrew was seeking some more specifics, which lead us to this little text exchange (obvs, his name is removed because I don’t want you getting all up in his biz!):
This is apparently his version of freestyling.
Oh, and for those of you who are on Team Andrew, rest assured that he knows/permitted me to blog this. I couldn’t resist having such verbal prowess grace my page.
Texts like this make my day. And if you don’t think that’s funny, well…I don’t know if we should be friends.