I'm not really much of a cook. When my husband and I were first dating, he came home from work one day to find that I'd made a batch of cookies. From the box. FOR DINNER.
He married me in spite of such character flaws.
In time, it became apparent that I needed to expand my daily menu beyond the realm of lean cuisines and fast food. (Evidently, you can't puree a hot pocket and feed it to a baby. WHO FUCKING KNEW.) I quickly became a fan of a variety of online recipe sites and was able to create a list of staple dishes by excluding terms like "cooking" and "fresh ingredients" from my search results. While I still have a lot of anxiety regarding cooking (the PRESSURE by God, not to mention the RAW CHICKEN OMFG SALMONELLA OUTBREAK and don't you DARE ask me about reductions), I feel like I've finally found my groove in the kitchen. I even have some trademark dishes, friends.
One of those dishes is Irish Chicken and Dumplings. Partly because it sounds fancy, but mostly because it's a one-pot meal and generally really fucking easy. So easy, in fact, that I've altered a bit to fit our family's tastes. And I'm here today to share with you.
It's time to be fucking stoked, people.
Okay, so I guess we need to start with, like, all the parts you need. What are those? Ingredients? Here's a list:
1. Chicken breasts with the nasty shit cut off
2. Hand sanitizer
3. Cream of chicken soup
4. Blood pressure medication
6. (Water filter)
7. Celery, carrots, and onions chopped
8. Jiffy Baking Mix
10. Spices and shit
Next is the timeline of events, though I'm not sure if I remember them in order exactly.
1. Boil the soup and water and toss that nasty chicken in there. Reduce to a simmer for about an hour
2. Wash your fucking hands.
3. Disenfect the kitchen.
4. Did you touch that can of ground pepper before you washed your hands? THROW IT AWAY.
5. Wash hands again.
6. Rinse vegetables.
7. Wash hands.
8. Rinse vegetables again and chop them.
9. Tend to lacerations with First Aid Kit
10. Wash hands and disinfect once more.
11. Add vegetables, cover and simmer for 30 minutes.
12. Mix milk and baking mix to form a soft dough. Drop by spoonful into boiling stew.
13. Curse because THAT FUCKING SHIT IS SPLATTERING ON ME AND JESUS FUCKING CHRIST OUCH IT HURTS.
14. Cover and boil for 15 minutes.
15. Remove cover and boil an additional 15 minutes.
16. Realize you forgot to run the dishwasher and frantically wash silverware and plates with which to set the table.
17. Mumble under breath about gender roles and ordering fucking takeout.
18. Call family to the table with a tone worthy of a murder indictment.
19. Give family an iodide pill.
20. Serve hot and enjoy!
21. Interrupt husband mid-bite because OMFG, YOU DIDN'T WASH YOUR HANDS FIRST?!
22. Wash his hands FOR HIM.
23. Guzzle a beer.
25. Deduce that you're too stressed and exhausted for dinner.
26. Eat a pint of ice cream instead.
27. Pass out on the sofa.
28. Have husband do dishes while the children tuck you into bed.
What do you think? DELISH, right?! Let me know how it goes at your next dinner party!