Whoa is me. I am feeling quite unappreciated in the kitchen tonight so I am coming here to whine.
I have been sick with a wicked cold and sore throat all week. We have had various takeout meals, a fast food or two and even a tray of precooked frozen "serve and heat" lasagna (Gasp! The horror!) Tonight I am starting to feel better, at least well enough to cook, so I decided to make my childhood favorite of country fried steak, fries, and gravy.
This is seriously my all time favorite meal (not to be confused with my all time favorite food of 7-11 hot dogs). I have made it for Matt a few times before and he eats it but it's not something he loves or even likes. I have never made it for Ansley before though so I was super excited.
While Matt bathed the girls, I cooked dinner. Just putting the steak in the skillet warmed my soul (is that what they mean by soul food?). Matt and the girls were finishing up just as I was finished making the gravy (from scratch- no jar or even a packet around here). I asked Ansley first if she wanted gravy on her fries or meat and she was polite (for once) and asked me what gravy was. I showed it to her and politely she told me that she didn't want to be rude but it didn't look very good so she would pass. Matt apparently decided to take this opportunity to finally have the guts to tell me that he too didn't like the gravy and didn't want any.
That left me with a skillet of carefully cooked and ingrediently balanced (yeah, I made that term up) gravy all to my self. I poured way to much of it onto my fries and dumped the rest in the trash. Fail number 1.
I got the plates on the table and dug in. Oh. My. God. it was the best country fried steak and gravy I have EVER made (and I have been making it since I was like 13). I was so excited as Matt put his first bite in his mouth. I was sure he was going to REALLY like it this time. Nope. He ate it but he certainly didn't enjoy it. I waited patiently for Ansley's to cool so that she could like it. As we waited I told her about how it is my favorite and has been since I was her age. I really pumped it up that it was a special meal and I hoped she would like it. She took a bite, made a face and dropped her fork. "Want to know what I don't like about it, Mommy? It's gross." Nice.
So there it is.... I am feeling completely unappreciated and unvalued for my perfect meal. I should have married a southern boy.
