The only thing worse than a flop, is having it happen again.
The very next day.
Cooks Illustrated and I are in a fight.
Home, fresh from the grocery, all required ingredients assembled and accounted for, I was so ready to take on the Chicken Enchilada recipe from the new Cooks Illustrated cookbook I mentioned yesterday.
I dutifully mise-en-placed. I read the recipe all the way through. Twice. I tallied up the cook times and counted back from Brad's 6:00 eta and set to work.
At 6:45, the enchiladas were still no where near being done. Either the Cooks Illustrated authors grossly underestimated the time required for simmering chicken to reach 160F, the chicken breasts were abnormally large, or user error was somehow involved (however unlikely that seems, considering the cook).
With the Bean's bed time looming ever closer and our tummies grumbling ever louder, Brad interrupted my inept-cookbook-author/elephantine-chicken defense, took the spatula out of my hands and drove us to Chik-fil-a.
We can have the enchiladas another night.
When I'm done being mad at them.