cooking with cricket

The only time I have ever held any interest in cooking is with this little lady here:
Her name is Cricket and she actually looked EXACTLY as she does in this picture. You put tapes in her and do crazy things as she talks through the tapes. I don't remember what most of those things were, but one of them was cooking. I had Cricket brand cooking utensils too. I don't remember cooking anything, but I do remember really loving going through the Cricket recipe book.

Why am I telling you about this doll and her cookbook? Well, my friends, until today, Cricket's recipes are the only recipes I have ever deigned to IMAGINE myself cooking. Today, however, I accomplished a real meal - much bigger than yesterday's accomplishment of a perfectly timed frozen pizza.

My first order of business was finding a recipe I could make with what I already had, so I input my "ingredients" on www.allrecipes.com and it led me to this recipe: Mozzarella Mushroom Chicken.

The first step of making this recipe was nothing short of traumatizing: Not only did I have to handle gross raw chicken, but I had to handle TEN gross raw chicken breasts and individually wrap them from the family pack. (It's very important to mention here how extremely disgusted I tend to be by meat, even when fully cooked, including chicken breast and the strange goopy and floppy bits it can involve). The first mountain to conquer:

Please notice how delighted and attractive I am to be embarking upon the task.






My first attempt at separating the surprisingly solid flesh poultry was more like tapping with a knife and, obviously unsuccessful.





Finally I got up the guts to touch the stuff and groped the crap out of those breasts to still no avail.



Finally, after consulting the experts (Daisy), a combination of cold water and groping and crying and stabbing did the trick and finally they were free! (And I was free to scrub the counter, the sink, and my hands while preventing vomit)
Finally free to ignore the chicken for a bit (during Phase One: Refrigerator of defrosting, but that's another story) I worked on what I know best: Cheese.

There being nothing disgusting about cheese I prettied up and relaxed for the task, taking my time with my surprisingly efficient Ikea hand grater thing. (This isn't a commercial. I actually can't believe how quickly it grates SO much cheese). And, of course, sampled a fair bit myself. 

In the meantime, other things happened, and I'm sure that both you and I are happy they were not photographed in such detail. Before long, though, my preparation was complete - onions and mushroom were chopped, rice was ready to be steamed, all that good stuff. (Look how neat I am even when cooking!! How did this happen?!)

And my chicken was on the stove. Now I'm not sure if the pan I used is a skillet like it's supposed to be, but 'Tale told me it was, so blame him. My chicken was a BIT burnt, but that's just because I have a new sworn hypothetical enemy (along with perishables): undercooked meat. (It's hypothetical because it hasn't actually done me wrong.....YET).

After the chicken seemed satisfyingly nonthreatening, things got busy.

And finally came together to result in this, aesthetically unpleasing display:

Sitting down behind it, I wondered if I would eat it, were it made by someone else. The rice (and butter) definitely seemed appealing. The mushrooms and onions would draw me in (and any mention of "mozzarella"), but I wasn't sure about the chicken - it took some moral effort and faith (in myself). I pushed through what I thought might be stringy and gross, and through what I wasn't sure was mushroom or chicken. And.......

(maaaaan I'm so good looking lol)

I LIKED IT. 

Weird, huh?