Burned Food and Bang Up Job

I don't know how you are, but when I don't feel well, I want comfort food. My mouth was craving a tender beef roast, smothered in lovely gravy with browned carrots, potatoes and onions on the side. Doesn't that just scream, "Eat Me?"

First of all, I took this beautiful hunk of beef (that should feed six) and began to brown it before putting it into the crock pot. After searching my entire kitchen and coming up empty - I called DH asking where the bleep my crock pot was. He had no clue. I would have to make it in my new, stainless dutch oven. I should have quit there. I looked for the vegetables - DH had purchased a total of six, flimsy, anemic looking carrots. There was also a small bag of four - yes - 4 - smaller than medium sized potatoes. (The kind with eyes that have to be dug out) The large onion was almost soft, just on the verge of being ready to rot. DH's ears should have been burning from all the unkind thoughts I was having. My thoughts of leftover veggies to add to the left over meat to make a lovely roast beef hash had left the building. I eyed the contents of the pot, gauged how much water it should need then turned it on low.

45 minutes later, I had a stinking, burned pot - it had gone dry! It shouldn't have. I bought that particular pan because it was supposed to be like the old waterless cookwear. I managed to salvage the little vegetables. The roast, however, was still bleeding (NOT juices) and I had to finish cooking it. I figured I could finish off the cooking. I stupidly cleaned the pan and started over. Wrong. I burned it yet again. My lovely roast had shrunk to half the size and it stuck to the pan. It was actually nice and tender - what was left after the burned part stuck to the pan. The onion slices were the only thing perfectly cooked.

I shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen anymore, period.

I was all set to give DH a 'talking to' when he came home, about the whereabouts of my crock pot and the small amount of veggies he had purchased. I couldn't do it. He limped into the house, pants torn and wincing when the dogs went to tell him 'Hello.' Seems he stumbled whilst trying to avoid metal debris on the stairs that shouldn't have been there. He landed at the bottom of the stairs. His left knee is swollen and sore. His right shin is skinned  and there is a dandy little chunk of flesh missing. I really couldn't say anything, except that I was sorry about the supper.

One never knows what goes on in others lives, you know?