I’m really not a terrible cook. I used to be better, but have fallen quite out of practice. Still, I can bake, cook a variety of foods, blah, blah, blah.
But I’m not so good at cooking dinner. It is too close to that hour of the day when all kids all around the world act crazy. Discipline gets in the way of good technique. This is my elaborate excuse.
So…. last night I was thinking about what to make for dinner. And, I remembered that I had bought corn tortillas at the store. Which meant that I could make Pioneer Woman’s Chicken Tacos! Yo!
These are fanatbulousatastic. I could eat them daily. They take a bit of time and do make a mess, but they are 10000000% worth it. But, make sure your children are very well occupied during their construction.
Mine were upstairs in the playroom & all was well. I cooked the chicken, got the beans & rice going, shredded the cheese, and got everything ready to fry those happy puppies up. (Yup. Fry. You make the tacos & then fry them. This exponentially multiplies the yum factor.) I put the oil in the pan & started heating it up.
Then Bean & Peanut got into an all-out toddler brawl. There was hitting. There was crying. There was screaming. There was one child hollering “NO!” when I told her to go to time out. Long story short: it took a rather long time to get the kids separated and to deal out appropriate punishment. However, on my old stove, the oil would barely have been warm. This new stove is a bit hotter & quicker!
I walked in the kitchen to see smoke everywhere. I immediately turned off the burner & moved the pan off. Then, I slapped the lid on to try to get the oil to settle down. But, something must have been on the lid…. some condensation or something dripped into the freakin’ hot oil and BOOOOOOM! (This would be where the alleged fireball may or may not have appeared in the pan….)
I screamed. I dropped the pan lid and dented it. Fortunately the pan stayed on the stovetop. (That would have been BAD, right?) Bean came running in freaked out. I guess copious amounts of smoke + Mama screaming can freak a kid out. But, all was well. I took the pan out onto the back patio & left it there to smoke in peace. At that point, I realized that a long stripe of my arm hairs were singed off.
Did that make me throw in the towel & insist that we go out to eat? Nope. I went back in there, got a new pan, some new oil, and fried up a whole mess of those yummy tacos. But this time I told the kids to stay away from the kitchen & stay away from each other. I would not allow another distraction to get in my way!
And yes, the tacos were worth it. I ate myself silly. Then I wondered why I even bother to go exercise at Zumba class.
Wanna make your own tacos? Go here for the recipe.