Since the oven hasn't been much up to speed, baking isn't as option -- so while five days out of seven I can do just fine cooking chilis or stir-fries or things that don't need the oven, when it stops working the only things I can think of to make are casseroles.
I offered, over the weekend, to take dinner Monday night to a friend from church who had a baby a few weeks ago -- I figured I'd wait until the big rush to bring food was over, but the need was still there. So, I asked what they liked to eat and was told, "Almost anything, but we're not big vegetable eaters -- more meat and potato types." I can and do cook lots of such meals, but immediately I started running through vegetarian chili recipes and things like that in my head. Why? Perversity, I guess.
I ended up making the chicken enchiladas, Mexican rice and guacamole. I hope it wasn't too spicy -- my kids will eat it all, but I never know what other people like. I love to cook, but I sort of hate cooking for other people, because I want them to like what I fix and I can never tell if my tastes are too weird or not.


No comments:
Post a Comment