I'm not what you'd call adventurous in the food department. I know what I like wherever I go, and I usually order the same thing. The only way I'll get something different is if YOU order it, I try it, and I like it enough to remember to get it the next time.
While I was in Iowa, my cousin's wife cooked up some enchiladas that I bravely tried. They were very, very good. In fact, they were so good, I friended her on facebook to request the recipe. It took her a while to get back to me with it, and after getting a bit impatient, I found a recipe online for crockpot enchilada casserole that sounded do-able. Since I was really wanting to try it, I stopped at the grocery store for just what I needed. Ground turkey substituted for the ground beef, a can of Rotel tomatoes and chilis substituted for the can of green chilis, everything else was fine. I made up the mixture, layered it as directed, turned on the crockpot, and anticipated a wonderful dinner for the evening.
Meanwhile, as the crockpot simmered, I baby-sat a very good friend's four children, and enjoyed an adventurous day, filled with running through the neighbor's sprinkler without permission, disposing of a dead racoon, cleaning up vomit from the little one who started running a pretty high fever while I had no children's Tylenol to give.
Yep, fun was had by all. At least we had donut holes for breakfast.
Then, after all the excitement died down, I took Hailey to swim practice, where she didn't fail to impress me with her stamina and determination. (Proud momma here!)
I was still very much looking forward to a wonderful meal when I got back home.
After swim team, I hopped over to the in-law's rental place, where Shawn was mowing the grass, so it was almost 8:00 by the time I got home for dinner.
I lifted the lid from the pot, and saw that it was actually beyond done. It didn't look very good, but it smelled okay. I fixed Hailey and myself a portion, trying not to think about how it looked a little like the mess I'd cleaned up after my little friend.
And then I managed to get down a bowl of it, all while trying not to think of how the texture felt like the mess I'd cleaned up after my little friend.
And now it sits heavily in my stomach, and it makes me feel like I could make a mess very much like the one I cleaned up after my little friend.
I don't think I'll be making THAT again.
Fortunately, my cousin-in-law emailed me her recipe today.