The Incorrigible Night Owl

My dear husband is currently laid up for the weekend following a, uh, procedure he had performed yesterday. (‘Nuff said.) While I do think that three labors and deliveries still trumps the, uh, procedure, I am, nonetheless, grateful and willing to allow him to milk the situation for a few days. So, contrary to my usual m.o., I have been trying to pamper him. I spent a couple hours on my feet in the kitchen last night making dinner AND dessert, which I served to him in his comfy chair in the living room. He responded by giving both of my efforts rave reviews. In fact, he swears the main course was the best chicken dish I’ve ever cooked. Now, keep in mind, dude would eat anything that doesn’t eat him first, including seafood (in any stage of cooked-ness, including “not”), buffalo, squirrel, lion (he swears he’s not making that up), Various Random Shit That’s Been in the Fridge for at Least Three Weeks, and deep-fried testicles, so perhaps his opinion of what’s good isn’t that reliable. Also, he was possibly still high on drugs at the time. However, I’ll pass along the recipe, just in case. If you make it, and like it, you, too, can marvel at my culinary prowess:
Zesty Chicken and Rice Casserole
(Note: if you are not a huge fan of onions and like a milder onion taste, use yellow onions instead of red. That’s what I’m going to do next time I make it.)
And don’t forget dessert:
Cheesecake Cookie Cups
His final comment, at the conclusion of dessert, was, “I thought you told me once you couldn’t cook. You lied.” Which, all told, wasn’t a bad way to end the day.