Why Did The Chicken Cross the Road?

To get the heck away from my kitchen.

In a futile attempt to save lots and lots of money,

Robbie and I have gone on a 60-day shopping freeze.

No spending money on anything except the absolute necessities 

(and no, that super cute new Essie nail polish color is not a necessity. I asked.)

We've tightened up our grocery budget and limited our out-to-eat excursions.

And between you and me, I feel poorer now than I did when we started this whole adventure. 

Saving money blows.

What does this have to do with chickens crossing the road? 

I'm getting there, I promise. 

Since we're not going out to eat nearly as much, I've had to actually start cooking. 

Which has been interesting to say the least. 

My goal this summer was to learn how to cook.

But I've been so busy renovating my house and planning for the upcoming school year going to the pool and blogging (let's be real) that I haven't actually learned that much. 

Although Robbie and I both can kill a cheeseburger, we don't really eat a lot of red meat.

I'm scared to buy seafood. I think I could learn how to cook it, but buying it makes me nervous.

So that leaves chicken.

Chicken, chicken, chicken.

It's all we eat. 

Don't get me wrong, I'm not tired of eating chicken. 

There's a lot of yummy things you can do with chicken. Things that even I can tackle. 

I am, however, so stinkin tired of cooking chicken.

Roxy's bowl "magically" makes it way over to the stove whenever I'm cooking dinner.
Clearly the dogs aren't getting tired of chicken.

First things first, raw chicken grosses me out and I have to do some serious pep talking to deal with it. This makes seasoning and breading chicken very difficult. 

Baking chicken in the oven takes a long time.

Sauteing chicken on the stove just gets old. 

And if Robbie's going to fire up the grill, we're going to be eating burgers. 

Dinner time is such a quandary.

I think this is where I would ask desperately for your chicken cooking advice.

But the truth of the matter is...I eat like a 5 year old (and firmly believe Ranch dressing tastes good with everything) so new recipes make me a little anxious.

And like I said before, eating the chicken isn't the problem.

So instead I'll ask desperately for someone to come over and just cook me dinner. Nightly. 

Don't all volunteer at once.

Hugs,