This Is Why I Mostly Bake

I've been off work the last few nights so I thought I'd make us some lovely dinners, and here is what I say to that experience: Poopie! Chicken Marsala be danged to heck! (Not to mention the nasty smell of wine while it's doing it's reduction thing.)

Christmas night we got home from my parents and had a nap, got up around 6-ish and I decided it would be nice to make some lovely, homey dinner. Something that sounded decidedly easy and not too over the top considering we'd been eating ham, rolls, cake and pie all day. My sister gave me all her old copies of Fine Cooking Magazine, and they had an issue on "Comfort Food". The cover had a casserole dish practically spilling over with the most divine looking homemade mac and cheese I'd ever seen. So I thought I'd make it. I remember making it in home ec. in high school. Shouldn't be that hard to make comfort food, right? Boil some pasta, make some white sauce, melt in some cheese...ta da! I'm a hero.

1 and 1/2 hours (and a very frazzled Becky) later we finally had our dinner. While it was decidedly tasty macaroni and cheese, it was just far too involved. Comfort food should be easy to make. I swear I stirred that !@#*@&^ white sauce for around an hour before it even decided to thicken up enough for the cheese. I had to whisk it the whole time. Then strain out the onions. Then I had to bake the stinking stuff. Dana wouldn't eat it because it had breadcrumbs on it. *SIGH*

So tonight I finally got around to making what I was going to make for Christmas dinner, but we got invited to a family party and decided to go to that instead. Boy am I glad we did. The Chicken Marsala in question was okay, but nowhere near worth the trouble I went through to make it. Plus wine smells really gross when it's simmering with mushrooms. By the time I got it on the table I didn't feel well. You can tell I'm a hardcore drinker, can't you? The mashed potatoes, which took all of 15 minutes to make (because you have to boil them, you know) and the croissants which came out of a can were better than the stupid frou frou chicken. Fancy dinner recipes be damned.

When I come back from the fog hanging round my head, which I think is wine fumes that have attached themselves to my brain, I shall post a new recipe. I am now off to pass out.