March 09, 2007


It's 6:45 Wednesday night. I had a good day at the office, a nice work out, and I'm ready for dinner. What shall I have? Something quick and easy. Pasta with chicken of course! To speed things up, I'll cook the chicken breast in the microwave. . . Well, in true Angela-cooking fashion, I didn't pay much attention to what I was doing and set the microwave to cook for 15 minutes. Now if you've ever cooked chicken, or anything for that matter, in the microwave you realize that 15 minutes is a very long time. So the pasta was boiling, the chicken was microwaving, so I went into the living room to chat with Aaron. About 14 minutes later we realized something was smelling really bad and smoke was billowing out of the microwave. Needless to say, my chicken breast was DONE. The entire house smelled awful and smoke was hovering in the kitchen; but Aaron still found humor in yet another one of my cooking mishaps. (it was pretty darn funny) I wish I'd thought to take pictures of the shriveled, crispy, black mound that was supposed to be my dinner -- instead, I took pictures of the plate after I'd scraped the charred remains into the trashcan.