Lately, there has been a lot of eating out, random blog topics, and relying on M to pick up my slack.

Most of it due to the silly overtime I had to put in.

But no more. I am returning to cooking with a vengeance.

However, returning to the stove tonight was a little touchier than expected. The risotto, which I attempted to cook in the rice cooker with defrosted pork broth, looked gummy and floury. It also stuck to the bottom because I neglected to put enough water in.

Then, in another epic battle with freakishly difficult chicken breasts, they ended up just a tad dark. And when I pressed against them with tongs, seemed too soft and maybe raw in the middle. I hoped and prayed to the poultry gods that M would not have to eat raw meat again.

Nothing else could go wrong right?

I decided to soft-boil an egg as my buckwheat soba noodles cooked. Seemed like a good idea at the time.

It did not look good.

I quickly drained the hot mess and hoped for the best. I was afraid I had lost my touch.

I plated everything and dinner it was. But somehow, the kitchen gods took pity as if to encourage me after my long absence from the position of chef. Everything turned out splendid.

(I turned the chicken burnt-side down so the photo would look nicer.)

M said the chicken was juicy, flavorful from the marinade, and amazingly enough, completely cooked through. The risotto was soft, peppery and well seasoned by the pork stock.

And salad I can always do well.

My noodles were perfectly al dente, the egg oozy and soft, and the nori salty and crisp. I drizzled everything with sesame oil and a sprinkle of cayenne.

Then inhaled it all.

M actually ate both chicken breasts and almost the entire pot of risotto. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized he was enjoying the food and not just pretending.

I will have to do this more. The cooking thing.

xoxo,

Jenn