In keeping with the CDC Covid-19 guidelines, please āsocial distanceā yourself six feet from our photo!!!
The Governor’s recent “shelter at home” order is no picnic for anyone. If you have been reading our column for any length of time, you can probably imagine what it’s like in the Dining Duo household. We live in a 1,200 square foot home. Our family room has theater-like seating in front of our TV. We pass the time sitting side by side watching ridiculous cooking shows while Nancy points her finger close to my face and says, “I’m not touching you” over and over. I retaliate by passing gas at will and laughing hysterically. We are so mature!!!
Nancy is really a great cook and has been working very hard in the kitchen since this “shelter in place” order has started. To show my appreciation, I decided to take matters in my own hands, to go where no man has gone before and cook a meal in Nancy’s kitchen. Walking into Nancy’s kitchen is a very dangerous thing to do. She is very territorial and doesn’t like anyone messing with it, especially a moron like me.
Jim being in the kitchen scares me. When I was hospitalized, his previous culinary ideas were to leave all my kitchen cabinet doors open for days, and eating from pots over the kitchen sink. One time he took a pan off the stove, didn’t turn off the flame, and burnt the handle on our microwave oven to a crisp. Needless to say, I am NOT thrilled having Jim in my kitchen.
I decided to cook my bride breakfast, so the first task was to take out the bacon, fry it up in the pan, and never, never let her forget “I’m her man”!!! I grab a pan and was promptly informed, “that’s not the bacon pan.” Strike one. I grab tongs, and was told “those aren’t the tongs for a nonstick pan.” Strike two. I’m ready to start frying and my confidence is building. To save time, I crank up the flames as high as they will go. She comes running into the kitchen once more and tells me to turn the heat down because the grease is splattering all over the place. Strike three.
When Jim is quiet in the kitchen, that’s when I start to worry. I walked in to see my kitchen counters covered with every utensil known to mankind. There was also a paper plate to put the bacon on, a paper plate to put the tongs on, and extra paper plates for his next step, the pancakes. I walk out holding my breath and tried to control the pain in my chest after seeing the mess in my kitchen.
Bacon’s done and a total success!!! Now on to the pancakes. I start looking for the pancake mix and a large bowl (I knew I should have left the cabinet doors open). After much searching, hiding in the last cabinet was the pancake mix and mixing bowl. I read the instructions on the pancake mix and it needed oil. Time to go through the cabinets again. The next question that comes to mind is what kind of oil? Canola, vegetable, Pennzoil? Nancy hears me rummaging through her cabinets again and comes running in to help me. I get all the ingredients together and the light bulb over my head goes off. I put the cooked bacon strip in the pancake as they were being cooked to surprise Nancy. Lo and behold, they were actually edible. In fact, Nancy said they were awesome and these will forever be known as Jim’s Surprise Pancakes. I puff up my chest proudly, and head to the family room for a well deserved nap.\
When I walked into my kitchen after breakfast, I found out how much Jim really helped me today, NOT. It was not a pretty sight! I turned around, walked out, donned my face mask, rubber gloves, and hazmat suit before reentering. There were utensils covered with dried up unknown substances on them, and paper plates everywhere. One with egg shells, one with tongs, one with grease soaked paper towels from the bacon, and actually a paper plate with a paper plate on it. There was grease splattered everywhere, on the kitchen counters, the backsplash, and the stove was dripping with grease. I am going to need a bigger bottle of Dawn for this job. The moron leaves bowls with pancake mix to dry up on them and I have to scrape them clean. During all of this clean up, Chef Moron is asleep in his recliner in the family room with his belt undone, snoring.
I can’t thank him enough for cooking breakfast. It made my life so much easier. I can’t wait to help him clean out his garage…
Have comments or restaurant suggestions for the Dining Duo? Send them an email at thediningduo@gmail.com.
