playing tennis

Last night's full moon has nothing to do with my dinner, I just thought it was beautiful

I haven't actually been playing tennis, I just look like I have. See, I really love spicy food.  Really really spicy food.  So you'd think I'd be able to tolerate it gracefully, right?  


Not so.  Instead, I get all flushed and break out in (what I like to think is) a subtle sweat.  It looks, a coworker once told me in the middle of a spicy Chipotle lunch, like I'd been playing tennis. 


Tonight I made this Bombay curry from a Cooking Light recipe I tore out of the magazine mom left behind last month.  If you read it, you'll see it calls for both curry powder and red pepper.  The curry powder in my pantry is, naturally, super hot.  Add that to the red pepper (and the heat that builds in the LKTC when the stove is on) and it sure looks like I got my exercise today. 


Before I even sat down to eat, I was already a little flustered.  I think I could say that every time I cook, really. I always start out with great intentions and some dedicated prep work.  Something always goes awry.  Sometimes it's just a little something. Tonight, not so much. 


It started out well enough.  Onions were diced, chicken was sliced, spices were set near the stove, oil was heating up in the dutch oven, and water was poured into the secondary pan for rice.  


Except then I realized it was supposed to be coconut milk in the secondary pan for rice.  No big deal, I just needed to open the can of coconut milk.  As I was measuring it, I couldn't figure out why it looked so...watery.  Oh, sldjkfklsj, I forgot to "shake the can vigorously."


So I spilled coconut milk everywhere pouring it back in to the can.  Having forgone the ability to shake the stupid can, I resigned myself to stirring it with a spoon.  Back in to the pan it went. 


From there it was just comical.  I was inhaling curry powder, slipping on chicken juice, frantically adjusting burners when the coconut milk boiled over, and spilling carrots and peas all over the floor.  Some day I will accept the fact that I'm just not a level-headed, unflappable cook.  At least I make disaster while wearing a cute apron. 


This curry, I thought, had better be amazing. But...it looked nothing like the picture...

It ended up being pretty delicious, despite the less than magazine-worthy appearance. Nothing about my kitchen, on the other hand, is at all photograph-worthy right now.