Adult life is hard. You grow up, get married, get shitty with each other, and contemplate divorce. If you’re lucky, you just contemplate. Or Unlucky. I guess it’s a matter of perspective. Anyway. Life may be hard, but with just the tiniest bit of quiet desperation, some ingeniuty, and that sinking feeling of hopelessness you’ve got dragging you down into a seething pit of despair, you too can throw some magical together in the kitchen.
Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you the random shit I just threw together. I call it I Give Up Casserole, and with any luck, it will be edible:
- Peel and dice a bunch of potatoes. Crying optional. There are knives involved and all.
- Throw some oil in a pan, add frozen chicken. Question life choices.
- Season with salt, pepper, rosemary, and all the excuses you’ve heard today.
- Decide to cook in one pan only after the fact, since he never replaced all the baking and casserole dishes he’s just thrown the fuck out over the years and you’ve really got no choice anyway.
- Remove half cooked chicken, put diced potatoes in pan, place chicken on top of potatoes.
- Add a can of Rotel because there’s only one left in the cabinet and you might as well use it here.
- Top with two cans condensed cream of mushroom soup.
- Feel bad about canned soup. Alleviate guilt by t’rowing some frozen northwest veggies on top of that shit. Think longingly about the West Coast.
- Splash on some milk because calcium.
- Top with the reminder of cheese in entire fridge which at this point is like, a half a cup, maybe.
Place lid on pan/pot/whatever and bake for I dunno, an hour, at like, 350°F, or at whatever time and temp you are reasonably sure won’t lead to giving everyone who eats it salmonella. Unless that’s what you want to do.
I’m going to follow this up with a warm bath where I’ll want desperately to cry but will be too numb to do so, punctuated with the interruptions of my children when they barge in to tell me they are simultaneously starving and will not eat anything I’m cooking.