I'm going where no modern woman has ever gone before. (Okay, that's a lie, it's just were I've never gone before.) I'm going to the land of homemade meals. Every night. For a month.
And by going to this magical place, what I really mean is making this magical place. All by myself. Except, my husband will be expected to open tight jars and shred cheese.
I love to cook. But it's something I'm often too tired to do. With warm weather here and the produce aisle looking more luscious than ever, I'm determined. Between the fresh spring fruit and my Vegetarian Times magazine, I've got all the inspiration I need.
So begins my attempt at a month of meals.
On Feb. 29 I did a trial run. Since it was leap day, best to pretend like that meal never happened. I tried to cook with fennel since I had no idea what it was. Needless to say I substituted orzo pasta for arborio rice which was disastrous. Possibly the nastiest pile of food I've ever cooked. Bless my sweet child he ate a whole bowl full of it! My husband, not so much. He's still apologizing for his obnoxiously honest reaction to my fennel fiasco.
Which means Mar. 1 is technically my day one of said month of meals. Good thing too, because I reverted to an old standby to save face. Homemade cornbread and chili is always a winner with Frito's at the bottom of the bowl. Not sure what's on the menu tonight...