The Meat of It

For Christmas last year, I asked for a crock-pot. I envisioned coming home to warm, home-cooked meals at least once a week. My brother got me a nice one, along with two great cookbooks geared towards creating those warm wonders I dreamed about. And I was very excited to receive all this greatness. I opened up the books and immediately began folding down the corners of recipes that sounded especially good (and easy). I lovingly took it home and I placed it down in the dining room corner near the window. And there it sat, until yesterday.

I'm not sure if I decided to approach the crock-pot yesterday because of a sudden urge to start cooking fantastic meals without much effort, or if it was because it provided a nice distraction from studying. But...I've known me for a long time now and I'm gonna go with the latter. Only because that is what I do. In college, it was always during finals week that I suddenly felt the need to organize my CDs. Or get rid of clothes I no longer wore. And I remember two distinct stressful times where it seemed particularly fitting to became suddenly obsessed with MTV's Real World du jour. Obsessed enough to watch the entire marathon. Even if it meant staying up all night. Because it was either that or studying and clearly, I needed to know if Trichelle and Steve (or whatever their names were) were gonna hook up.

You get the point. New obsessions are welcome distractions, especially when I'm busy.

So, back to the crock-pot. Yesterday I not only opened up the crock-pot, found a recipe, bought the materials and made a fabulous chicken and asparagus dish, I also made home-made pesto from a basil plant I just purchased. Yes, that means I created a well-balanced, healthy, home-cooked meal AND whipped up a batch of fresh, me-made pesto for the future. And an even bigger shock--for anyone who knows me--is that I BOUGHT MEAT.

I don't buy meat. Sort of as a policy. I don't really love it (aside from the occasional hamburger or tri-tip), and I don't really like to buy it or cook it. I do know how to cook things with it--I was raised by very carnivorous people and in college I was a nanny to meat-eating children with expensive tastes--but I don't really do it. Ever. And the other day I was thinking...one day I might have a significant other. And this significant other might lead to a family. And families eat meat. And so I knew it was time. Time to crack open the crock-pot and jump on that chicken-buying wagon.

Yes, what more perfect way to deal with this very rich feeling of burnout, my upcoming GRE, and a fall semester starting a month sooner than it should (in my opinion) than by preparing for my future and learning to more effectively nest.

Just call me ML Crocker, future mother, proud crock-pot user, and meat-cooker.