This is what I ate for dinner last night.
I ate both of those with my bare hands straight out of the skillet. Then someone walked in on me with a drumstick in each hand and adobe pepper sauce all over my face. And they shook their head in disappointment and kept walking.
That would have been fun though.
But do you know what I liked most about this dinner? The entire three part “balanced” meal took place in this one skillet. And you know what else I liked? You don’t really have to wash a skillet. You just wipe it out, stick it back on the stove and move on with your life.
I hate dirty dishes. That’s the only thing I don’t like about cooking. The dishes. The piles of dirty dishes and dirty counters that, according to the rigid laws of society, I’m expected to clean once I’ve used them.
So until I can find a way around these rigid, unreasonable expectations that society has imposed upon me, I’m using a skillet. And I may or may not eat directly out of it from time to time. Maybe I’ll show you a picture of that next. It’ll be a pretty sight, let me tell ya.
I love my skillet.
I might marry it.
I may trick it into proposing. I can’t propose to the skillet, I’m too old fashioned for that.
Go find a big black heavy skillet. Your life will never be the same.