#Fail

I love the picture country songs paint of eating in the early years of marriage, like Kenny Chesney eating burnt suppers the whole first year in “The Good Stuff” and Brad Paisley proclaiming it charming when she lost all track of time and burnt the cake in “Little Moments.” But, though I’ve certainly burnt a thing or two in my time, that hasn’t been a real issue in mine and Hunter’s first year and a half of marriage. Rather than being forced to choke down charred suppers, my husband has had to endure my experiments in the kitchen.

More often than not, this is to his advantage. I cook at least once a week (often more), so he’s always well fed, and most of the time, the meals are incredibly tasty, if I do say so myself. But he’s definitely a “meat & potatoes” kinda guy, and though he’ll eat whatever I put in front of him, he has asked if I can just cook “normal” things every once in a while. I relent, for his sake and because those things he deems “normal” are often easy to throw together when I don’t have time to play (a few of his favorites are Paula Deen’s chicken in wine sauce and her Chicken Georgia, and good, ole chicken stir fry with store-bought teriyaki sauce, a staple in my cooking repertoire from college).

But most of the time, I still experiment. And sometimes, the results do not turn out as I’d hoped – like tonight’s pork chops with orange sauce, which looked simply stunning, but left something to be desired in terms of flavor. I can tell when Hunter doesn’t like something not because he complains, but because he doesn’t compliment it. In fact, I usually have to coax any negative opinions out of him. He didn’t care for the texture of the orange sauce, come to find out (too pulpy), plus, even I have to admit that he makes a killer seasoning mix for pork chops that this dish simply didn’t live up to. It doesn’t hurt my feelings when he doesn’t like something – I mostly want to know so I can contemplate how the dish might be improved the next time. Not that there usually is a next time – I’m too busy experimenting with new recipes to redo something we didn’t love the first time around.

This dish turned out to be a failure, and there will probably be many more of those to come. Still, just like Kenny and Brad, Hunter cleans his plate every time, bless his heart. I’m not sure if he does it to spare my feelings, or because he thinks its cute that I try, or just because he’s hungry. But I love him for it all the same.