The first week I was married, I almost had a nervous breakdown. It was not about the 'lifetime commitment thing', the 'living 5 hours from my family for the rest of my life', or even 'there is no room for my clothes in this single, tiny house so I guess I will keep them in my suitcase'......it was all about the food. Of all of the pressures of newly-weddedness, that to provide meals was the biggest for me. It was self-imposed, of course. My new husband had been surviving for 31 years without a 'little lady' and could have fended for himself.....as long as you count 'fending' as eating out 2x/day, 7 days a week.:) I knew my way around the kitchen fairly well, it was just the meal planning thing that got to me. It seems like that might have been a good use of Home Ec time in high school, instead of making and delivering 13 dozen cookies to friends in other classes.

Anyway, I laid awake at night thinking about what to serve (dumb, I know) and then what to serve with it. Luckily we received 2,749 cookbooks for shower presents, and I devoted myself to their study.....leafing through them franticly, turning down pages, writing out lists. What goes with what? If I make X, then I'll put Y with it, with a side of Z on the side. then I decided casseroles were definitely the way to go because I had heard men love casseroles, and they were 1 dish with everything in it, 1 recipe instead of 3. I went to the grocery every day, because I would forget some random item or change courses. I spent all day buzzing around this tiny kitchen, chopping, prepping, mixing, cleaning. And then we would have a 9x13 casserole for 2 people, and because I knew my new love hated leftovers, I would toss it! (btw, it horrifies me to admit to this...throwing away food....my Grandma Jo is rolling in her grave!)

Anyway, about 3 days and lots of dollars into my quest for domestic goddessness, my new husband told me, very kindly, that all he really cared about was meats. And if I really wanted to cook at home, some hot meat was all he wanted. Oh, and potatoes. And that's when it began.... my charted course through a lifetime of meal preparation. Roasted meats and potatoes in various forms (I know you health nuts out there are gasping. Relax, I serve veggies and fruits too. It's just that P doesn't eat them.) And creative leftovers of said meats (shhh, don't tell him). Now, I love our meal plans because they allow me to be free....free from recipes and random ingredients. Don't get me wrong, I love a good recipe or random ingredient, I just don't have time at this stage of life to be dallying with that stuff most days of the week.

I tell you all this as a foreword to a grip session, be warned. In our rental house, I have an oven that is so archaic, Betty Draper would turn up her nose. No amount of pounding or marinading will save a piece of meat. Basically, the only thing you can cook in my oven is soup. I had grand plans of a summer of crock-pot meals, but after the 3rd, I decided that no one really wants to eat slow-cooked fare in the 95 degree heat. Neither of my boys 'care for' sandwiches. Only 1 burner of the stovetop works, and there is a questionable exhaust. Also, it's directly under a cabinet, so it seems like a fire hazard (although, those cabinets are classy metal, so I guess I'm safe there. if you missed the sarcasm, check again). I am diabolically opposed to frying, so don't suggest a Fry Daddy.

I am wondering how I'm going to feed 'us' for the next 5 months. I could make it many months with pesto, tomatoes, fresh mozzarella and ice cream, but this meal plan did not make it past the board. I would love to hear any suggestions that do not involve a rotisserie chicken or tacos. Or at least your well-wishes that we do not get kicked out of Qdoba by summers end.