What's Wrong with the Chicken?

Part of finding happiness everyday is to laugh sometimes even at our own expense. My misadventures in the kitchen usually invoke a frustrated response that eventually leads me to laughter. I wouldn't say I am a perfectionist, but I do enjoy a tasty meal. I want Hubs to come home after a long day and eat a good meal. The most irritating thing that happens is when I gag on my own creation. It is these times too that I seem to make enough food for 20 people, such as the chow mein fiasco I hoped would taste as good as the restaurants. HA!! Yeah right. Now I am not a food waster. I eat everything I put on my plate. I appreciate food, and I know how blessed I am to have food on the table. All those starving kids in the world would love that gag inducing meal chow mein. Therein lies the problem, the leftovers. I have a love/hate relationship with leftovers. Some food just shouldn't be eaten after it goes cold, because reheating it makes it dry and no amount of water will help it go down. Leftover thanksgiving turkey is something I have difficulty eating. The combination of the fridge and microwave just makes that once succulent juicy meat dryer than sand on a hot day (yes I know what this tastes like). I try so hard not to have leftovers, unless I know for certain they will be eaten. Otherwise they will sit in my fridge for a week or so neglected, a reminder that I am wasting food. I hope beyond hope that I will eat those leftovers, but I never do. They end up in the garbage. This begs the question, why don't I just throw away the food in the first place? I don't know. Guilt. But why can't leftovers just taste the same as when you first make the dish? Once you have a meal the hankering for that dish is gone and done. I have a fridge with enough leftovers to feed the street I live on but have as much temptation as toe jam.

Something has happened to my cooking these past couple of weeks. While most of my meals haven't been downright nasty, they haven't been "Oh my gosh give me seconds." They are "meh". I find recipes online that have been tested, tried and received rave reviews. Recipes that are posted on blogs with headings of "Best recipe ever!" I try them and ew. Last night, I was having none of that after trying new recipes without success. I decided I was going to make chicken a la king. I have made this meal countless times. Each time it tastes different because I have no set recipe. Last night it definitely tasted different. I bit into the chicken and it was not how chicken should taste. That gravy was not the same gravy I taste tested just minutes before. Something happened between pot and plate. Hubs has learned to be kind on these nights and will quietly eat. I looked at him with my mouth half full, "What's wrong with the chicken?!" As if he was the one at fault. (Sorry Hubs) He just looked back at me calmly, "Is there something wrong with it?" and somehow continued eating. I ate the double crossing rice and gravy and shamefully left the chicken on the plate. It leered at me, reminding me of the price and those starving kids who don't have the luxury of buying already plucked and cut chicken from the meat aisle. What do I do now? Hubs finished the rice and gravy, but left the chicken. My conscience was nagging at me. Leftover chicken. Leftover chicken. Chicken that had betrayed me. I threw it in the garbage deciding that not even those starving children could stomach it. Stupid chicken. I wonder what toe jam tastes like.

Acts 14:7 Nevertheless he left not himself without witnesses, in that he did good, and gave us rain from heaven, and fruitful seasons, filling our hearts with food and gladness.