I do most of the cooking at our house. Here’s how I mucked it up last night:
We had some Pork Souvlaki in the freezer, left over from a previous meal. So this was my plan:
- I would make the pork souvlaki, on our electric grill
- I would make rice, in our rice cooker
At this point, I reported status to my wife, who suggested that I make the chicken breasts we had in the freezer. I misunderstood, and grabbed two whole chicken thighs, which I defrosted and throw on the grill. I put some steak spice on them, to add some flavour.
When I thought they were done, I took them off the grill, only to discover that no, they weren’t done. At least, mine wasn’t done—my wife claimed that hers was fine. And, as of about 8:30 this morning she still wasn’t dead, so I’m guessing it was okay.
But, based on the chicken blood I could still see in mine, I threw it out, and sulked for the rest of the night, since my culinary skills were proven to be so lacking.