Welcome to 1950

I have to say a domestic goddess, I’m not. (See earlier post. The dust bunnies under my furniture even has, Jack sneezing).

But this weekend I did something that was so domestic it made me smile and almost put on an apron.
I got a crock-pot, well, a slow cooker since it’s not from Rival, but from Hamilton Beach. But I digress. I’d been thinking of buying one for quite a while. For he past year, I’d see them in Sears, or Tar-jay and stop, stare a bit then walk on by. “Come on, am I really gonna use that or is it going to be tossed in the ‘never will’ bin like my had-to-have-it basting set?”
But recently a neighbor and knitting buddy of mine was telling me all about the wonders of a slow cooker. She said I just had to have one. She uses hers all the time. I was shocked. She’s an artist, from Australia, with a super cool haircut. Soooo not the Crock-pot type.
Then got my new issue of Real Simple and once again I was assaulted with the virtues of the Crock-pot. That was it. A sign.

On Saturday the DH and I were in Kmart and found ourselves (well, I found myself and called him over) in front of the slow cookers.
I said: I had to get one.
He looked at me and smirked.
I said: what’s that for?
He rolled his eyes. Obviously he was thinking of the basting set.
I just shook my head, choose one and asked him to carry it to the check out, through clenched teeth.
One look and my expression and the DH knew I would not be moved. He picked up the pot and went to check out.

On Sunday, after searching the web for recipes and an afternoon trip to the grocery I came home make what I hoped would be life changing rosemary chicken with, potatoes, peas and onions. An hour later I realized why it’s called a slow cooker. The chicken was still pink and the DH was volunteering to go out for Chinese. Sigh.
I scowled and he went back to the Giants game.
After much hand wringing, stress knitting and 4 hours. It was done!

I made plates for everyone and hovered as the DH and DS took their first bites (the DD was spared because she’d ate out earlier).

Success! Seconds all around. The chicken was tender and moist and the potatoes cooked perfectly.

Easy one pot cooking.
And guess what’s for dinner tonight? Sorry DD. It’s a pretty big pot.

Welcome to 1950, Kwana!