My kitchen skillz have improved.

Or maybe not.

The boyfriend complemented my cooking the other night, he said that he's always liked my cooking but it has improved in the last year that we've lived together. I had to laugh. I've always enjoyed cooking but living with Matchu I never really had to cook. I think in the two years that I lived with him, I cooked twice. Both times on Cinco de Mayo. And he made the El Pato Beans o' Death (soo yummy!) while I made the chicken enchiladas.

At any rate, I have tried very hard to keep boxed food (i.e. hamburger helper) out of our diet. I feel that, for the most part, I have succeeded. The closest to boxed food that gets in my grocery cart is perogies, pizza, and hot pockets. Not bad. I cook alot of chicken, ground turkey and have incorporated some pork into the diet. Red meat graces the gullet in the form of stir-fry meat in the Valerie concoction (stir-fry steak, soy sauce, onions, garlic, chili flakes, sugar, spaghetti, and pesto sauce). Trust me, it's good.

Tonight's dinner was marinaded chicken and a spinach salad. I put the chicken in the 'fridge yesterday afternoon so it could defrost safely (?). I poured on the marinade and let it sit in the 'fridge whilst the oven did its preheat thing. Chicken goes into the oven for about half an hour, I figure it's done, don't check the meat like I usually do. I go to town and eat at least half the damn thing congratulating myself on how moist the chicken is. Hmm, it's pretty damn moist and chewy, even for some Damn Good Chicken. Right before the boyfriend sits down to eat I turn on one more light and tell him to check his dinner. Yeah, it's rather pink.

I'm sitting here an hour later, my stomach doing flip-flops, telling myself it's all in my head (Mmm...samonella.). I eat sushi, I order my steaks medium rare (not rare Uncle Buck style which was "wipe-the-snot-and-shit-off-and-throw-it-on-the-plate" but still rather pink). I can handle this. I threw his serving and what was left of mine back in the oven to complete cooking/germ-killing. He ate his after double-checking that all was cooked. I left my serving in the pan.

Maybe that compliment came a little too soon.