This is not about the Hunger Games...

But it is about food.  I love food.  I have a lot of people inform me that loving vegetables will make me skinnier.  And that giving up meat and ice cream and butter will keep me from heart disease.  And they are right.  If all I ate were veggies and quinoa, I'd be way skinnier.  But I can't do it.  I eat veggies (especially the ones my husband sneaks into the smoothies he makes every morning).  I have even discovered that I like some of them (like broccoli, which I eschewed with a firm hand for all of childhood and singlehood, until my husband shamed me into eating it, and I discovered that it wasn't so bad).  I even ate asparagus a few days ago.  My mom will be shocked and awed if she hears about that.  I try to at least throw a salad together at dinner every day so we won't all get rickets or scurvy or whatever lack of veg does to you.  But I can't leave out butter.  Or cheese.  I most certainly can't give up my red meat.  I'm not here to judge or criticize those who have abandoned those parts of the food world.  We are blessed with our own brains and personalities, and honestly, if I could live on healthy food alone, maybe I would.  But when I leave out the good stuff I get really, really cranky.  I get mean. And I don't enjoy eating anymore.  I lose my desire to cook dinner, and I start to resent everyone that eats healthy and loves it.  So, in order to maintain a good relationship with my healthy friends, and to keep my children from living in a house of horror, I eat meat, cheese, butter, and, most importantly, chocolate.

Because I love food so much, I have discovered a desire to learn how to cook it better.  I'm also totally addicted to the Food Network, and this has been the spark that lit my need to be a better chef at home.  I know I've mentioned this love of Food Network before, but now I'm going to tell you what I've learned by watching certain shows:

Chopped Even fancy chefs have a hard time coming up with something appetizing with a set of random ingredients, but somehow they manage.  Chopped is like a competitive version of what happens regularly at my house, but the judges are far less picky on the show than the little guys I have at home.  Watching Chopped inspires me to make what's in my cupboard into something edible.  (Pinterest has come in really handy here, too.)  There are days when I've got frozen chicken tenders, salsa, an apple, and a tiny bit of Swiss cheese, and I think, This is my mystery basket.  Let's get this on the table. And I usually have about half an hour to get it done.  I'm living the show.  Usually my judges' comments are like this: "Can I just have a hot dog?" "What's THAT?" "How many bites do I have to take?" But they go to bed with something in their tummies.  Thanks, Chopped.

Worst Cooks in America The good news is that I'm pretty sure I'm not one of them.  I know this because I have never sent any of my family to the hospital with food poisoning.  So I know a few things, like not to leave chicken sitting on the counter all day before serving it to my family pink in the middle.  I can boil a pot of pasta.  I've picked up a few things, though, by watching them teach the bad cooks.  For example, I didn't realize that you are supposed to always put your meat/chicken into the pan when it's hot, sealing in the juices.  No more gray and dry steaks.  Veggies are usually done cooking when they are at their brightest color. This will keep us from eating soggy, tasteless veggies. There's a bounty of new information I've gotten from watching the show.  Mostly, though, it gives me a little confidence in my abilities.

Restaurant: Impossible I'm astounded at the atrocities that go on in the kitchen at some restaurants.  It's taught me that if I walk into a restaurant and the carpet smells nasty, I should probably turn tail and head to the nearest McDonald's, because they at least have cleanliness standards that have to be met, even in 3rd world countries.  It's made me a little wary of mom and pop restaurants.  Those seem to be the type that end up with rats under the stove and mold in the hood over the stove.  It's all about the smell of the carpet.  This doesn't have anything to do with my learning to cook, except that sometimes when my mystery basket doesn't work out, we go out to eat.  But not where the carpet stinks.

Now I'm off to eat some sugary cereal.