Rick’s Rants and Raves

I’m a decent cook, thanks in large part to my wife. I’ve gained enough experience that I’m able to cook pretty much anything given a recipe, and I can improvise even if I don’t have a recipe. But, I’m not amazing. I get food on the table that doesn’t make us gag.

Yesterday, Anne went to a scrapbooking event just prior to dinner time on a night when we had no menu plan. We’ve been eating out a lot recently so I was determined to make use of the food in the house. Hrm… but how?

So here’s what I did (not that I’m proud): put some chicken breasts on the Foreman grill, and started boiling some rigatoni. (I chose rigatoni because the box has been half used for a millennium). A few minutes before the end of the rigatoni’s cooking time, I threw some frozen broccoli into the water. When the chicken was cooked, I cut it into chunks, and added salt and pepper. When the rigatoni and broccoli were done, I drained them, then added the chicken. Now comes the part I’m not proud of: I added (ahem) ranch dressing. I tossed it all together with a little bit of Parmesan cheese, and slapped it on some plates for the kids, calling it chicken broccoli alfredo.

As Nathan finished his second plate full, he suggested “Daddy, you really should open a restaurant!”

Thanks buddy, but, um, no.