Squash – 1
Me – 0
I somehow squished a splinter into my middle finger while trying to crack into the vegetable’s super hard exterior. My knife is not up to the task. I need a cleaver or something heavy duty. So instead of slicing it for pan frying, I just went with boiling the chunks.
Fail #2. M bought me this handy dandy little meat thermometer Sunday specifically so I could cook meat to the proper temperature and stop playing roulette with his stomach. So of course I was happy to try it out on the pork chop I had planned for tonight.
I inserted it carefully, not letting the tip touch the bottom of the pan because Rachael Ray always tells me that’s how you get false readings. And I waited. The needle rose ever. so. slowly. In the meantime, I was getting burnt by sizzling oil splatters. The needle decided to stop right at the 6 o’clock position. So I decided the thermometer was broken and took the meat out.
I mean, it had been in there for a while so it MUST be ready by now, right?
Wrong. Back into the pan it went after M took one bite. He stood by this time and put on his “I’m a man, I eat meat” face and grabbed the thermometer to try it out himself. The needle never went past dead south. So I guess we were both right. Me and the needle I mean. The meat wasn’t cooked all the way through the first time, but the damn thing is definitely still broken.
Now excuse me while I go nurse my aching finger.