I guess the idea of throwing things in a pot and plugging it in to make a meal is alien to me as I have spent the last 4 years learning to actually cook. 

     My cute little million year old grandmother gave me a small crock-pot that she had never used.  I have been massively throwing things out and selling stuff on eBay to simplify my home, and I debated this object thoroughly. 

    Is it rude to throw it away and never try it?  Should I make a buck on it? It has been staring at me for weeks and weeks and weeks and weeks.  So the other night I decided to use it or loose it.  Shit or get off the crock-pot as they would say.

    In went chicken breasts, celery, green onions, baby carrots, olive oil, a quarter cup of Italian dressing and the plug into the wall.   4 hours later… out popped an aesthetically displeasing yet delicious chicken, uh.. thing. 

    So I get it.  Its easy and tastes good.  But I truly love the time I spend choosing recipes and chopping and planning and stirring and basting and watching and tasting. Most of all I delight in the look on my son’s face when I have made his favorite meals and laid them out beautifully on the plates we chose together.  I even like a plastic Tupperware of homemade leftovers for lunch.  It is somewhat of a zen thing I suppose. 

    There is no real cook’s satisfaction with the crock-pot.  I equate it with the microwave meal.  But I also see the need for fast and easy sometimes… I guess I will keep it.

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