Today was a remarkable day. For the first time in our almost seven-year marriage, I cooked Alex meat for dinner (I hope my mother-in-law isn't reading this). It's no secret that I'm not big on the whole cooking thing, and now that I don't have Trader Joe's to rescue me, I'm kind of at a loss. How many pasta combinations can one family eat? So today Catcher and I cooked up a pot roast--recipe courtesy of my mother-in-law, in fact--and by cooking, I mean that we threw a few ingredients into a roasting pan (is that what it's called?) and let it sit in the oven all day.
Catcher with the potatoes.
Yummy? Not so much. I was a little skeptical before it went in the oven.
A few hours in and Scout checks our progress.
(*Scout isn't wearing a shirt because she was sick today and had thrown up; I'm not a total redneck.)
The end result: not too bad for my first time.
The real testament to my cooking experiment being a hit was 1) Catcher ate everything on his plate (he never does) and 2) I ate everything (I'm not a big meat-eater). Alex always eats everything, so he doesn't count, but I know his inner Texan-Midwestern was saying "it's about time the woman cooked a man some meat."
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