chicken schmicken

So the chicken the other night, she did not turn out so well. Can’t blame the recipe. It all came together so beautifully, but an oven mis-hap had us with an inedible pink chicken at 8pm. I know our oven doesn’t get as hot as it needs to. I know this. So why did I forget this? I usually stick the oven thermometer in there, preheat and adjust as necessary. But nope. Not that night. Completely forgot. So instead of cooking at 350 degrees for an hour and a half, the bird cooked at anywhere between 300 and 325. And I was SO hungry! So after cursing myself (and being, admittedly, an absolute bitch to my husband) I attempted to heat up some leftover lasagna. I usually never turn to the microwave. In my opinion, the only thing a microwave is good for is for popping popcorn. But, as I just mentioned, I was famished and I thought the microwave would be a quicker heating alternative to my dysfunctional stove. And I’m sure it was, but it certainly wasn't worth all the heartache it gave me. The plate of pasta exploded on the edges where the microwave succeeded in over heating while leaving the center of the plate completely untouched by any heat whatsoever. Shifted everything around, threw it in the micro again and gave it another whirl. More explosions, more inadequate heating. Went to take the plate out and to my surprise the plate was the temperature of molten lava. Needless to say, it was not a good dinner night. Poor husband suggested that he bring dinner home the next night to avoid similar turmoil. Good idea. And he picked up my favorite…Sammy’s Woodfire pizza and grilled chicken salad. Can I just talk about this salad for a second? What the hell do they put in this salad? It’s like crack. I actually eat so much salad that I can barely get down half a slice of pizza. The chicken is perfectly grilled, the balsamic is mysteriously delicious (I say “mysteriously” because in all these years of loving this salad and attempting to make my own balsamic vinaigrette, I have not been able to identify the ingredients for that absolutely perfect blend), the crumbles of gorgonzola and the crunchy walnuts makes for the only salad I eat as if there weren’t a single green thing in there. One of these days, when/if our ship comes in, new oven will make all my woes a thing of the past. Till then, let’s hope I’ll now remember to calibrate before attempting another fancy schmancy recipe. Tonight, it’s turkey burgers. Yes, think I’ll be better off sticking to the grill.

I turn 33 tomorrow.

In 33 years, I have learned:

1. I have no tolerance for mediocrity (the microwave is the king of mediocrity).
2. Boy, did I marry the right man.
3. Dammit Dawn, always wear sunscreen! Always. Forget all dreams of tanning. It simply doesn’t matter that when you go to Hawaii tourists ask you where you’re from and are shocked to discover you’re not also from Nebraska. “Southern California?!? But you’re as white as I am!”
4. Speaking of Hawaii, if ever you come to a road marked “4-wheel drive only,” do not, I beg of you, do not go down it in your 2-wheel drive rental car.
5. Stay away from gin.
6. Don’t even think about starting a diet in March…you know you can’t avoid those Girl Scout cookies.
7. Procrastination is my middle name.
8. I need to stop biting off more than I can chew…both literally and figuratively.
9. Never tell a hair stylist to, “have fun with it.”
10. There’s no place like home.