Cheesy Pilaf

I am a gawddamn idiot. Really.

When Dr. J and I moved in together back in Summer of 1996, I took it upon myself to teach him how to cook. I wasn't gourmet, but I could make several chicken dishes, and breaded pork chops. And anything that had instructions on a box.

I was thrilled when Dr. J wound up enjoying cooking, finding it relaxing. He began to take on more and more of it. At this point, I'd say he does 98% of it, truth be told. I confine my contributions to side dishes, namely those with instructions on a box. I can't even remember how to cook much of anything at this point.

So today, while Dr. J was outside tending to our snowy sidewalks and entertaining our daughter in the process (she loves ice and snow), I decided to "help" by cooking rice pilaf and scalloped potatoes. I have cooked both (closely following the directions each time) at least a thousand times since I was 15 years old.

And yet, as I was stirring both I couldn't figure out what was going wrong?! The rice pilaf was clumping funny, and the scalloped potatoes didn't have their usual cheesy color to them. Hmmm.

Then it occurred to me . . . I had mixed up the seasoning packets for both, putting the pilaf one into the potatoes, and vice versa.

I flung open the window, called out to Dr. J, and . . . confessed. He told me to "step away from the stove."

The rice pilaf tastes like a cheesy risotto. Or at least I think it does (I have never eaten risotto as far as I know). The potatoes are a total wash. Eh, the pilaf probably is, too.

I am a gawddamn idiot. I am thinking that I should further confine my culinary contributions to pouring the wine.