Someone took my competence

4 February 2006

Just because this gives me something to blog, does not make it amusing. The Olds are out at a quiz tonight, leaving me to fend for myself. I had a nice dinner of chicken kiev, fried potato and baked beans planned.

The kiev needed 30 minutes at Gas 6, so I put it into the preheated oven, set the timer and went to the office to play some music, to kill time before I needed to prepare the potatoes and beans. After a few songs, I heard the timer beeping. “That’s never 30 minutes,” I said to, well, nobody. However, I have no sense of time, so I entertained the idea that it had in fact been that long. Looking in the oven, the kiev looked almost done, so I turned the heat down and left it in there while I did the rest of my dinner.

Having done the potatoes and beans, which came ready in beautifully synchronised fashion, I went to fetch the kiev. I gave it a poke with my finger. Hmm, that doesn’t feel very warm. I don’t want to die after I eat this I thought, so I turned the oven back up and gave it a few minutes in the big heat, with the spuds and beans keeping warm in the grill above.

When I looked at the kiev again, it looked much better and it was piping hot on the outside. On the outside. I took my yummy dinner to the living room and settled in front of my DVD. I cut into the kiev … and out slid the lump of garlic butter. Quite clearly not melted. Hmm. I poked the exposed chicken with my finger and it was only warm. Bugger.

Back in the oven it went, with the rest of the dinner back in the grill above. I gave it another ten minutes. When I took it out of the oven this time, it looked much better and poking the meat with my finger, well, hurt my finger, so that was good enough for me. Back to the sitting room and the DVD. Then back to get my cutlery, which I’d left in the kitchen. Cutting into the kiev once more, it felt just a tiny bit rubbery. I wondered if it was simply the processed nature of the meat (I’ve never seen a chicken born that shape with a lump of garlic butter inside it) but realised, no, dagnammit, it may well be hot enough, but it’s just not quite cooked.

So back went the kiev, now in three separate pieces, half the garlic butter long since smeared across the baking tray. Back went the beans and potatoes under the grill. Seven minutes later I re-compiled my dinner for the billionth time and took it back to the sitting room. Then I went back to get my cutlery, which I’d left in the kitchen. Finally, everything was cooked, hot all the way through and I was able to eat my dinner without fear of, you know, death by incompetence.

Looking at the track lengths of the songs I listened to before the timer went off the first time, I think I’d only given the kiev ten minutes initially. After all the fannying about, I gave it a total of 27 minutes, plus about ten minutes at low heat while I did the potatoes and beans.

Before the weekend, I said that I would like to cook dinner for everyone on Sunday. Maybe I should reconsider.

Posted in: being me, food

Comments

3 Responses to “Someone took my competence”

mum
4th February 2006 @ 11:09 pm

reconsidering is not allowed….you just need practice darling!

[Reply]
Elaine
5th February 2006 @ 12:27 am

well at least I found it amusing! Sorry your chicken tried to kill you back.

[Reply]
Lucinda
5th February 2006 @ 4:40 am

I can’t believe you made cooking chicken kiev interesting. You truly have a gift for writing! :) And photography. I am very envious of your template.

[Reply]