I dissected my failed Crockpot attempt at stew last night in a stubborn effort to salvage it. After all, it had a whole package of chicken breasts in it that I was loath to let go to waste!

First, I separated out all of the chicken, corn, mushrooms, and onions and set them aside. These parts were cooked enough. I rinsed off some of the chicken that had more prominent bits of boiled chicken silt, which I have previously deemed "grosslets."

Then, I spooned out the carrots and potatoes into a pot, over which I strained the remaining broth through one of these guys:

The gunk left in the strainer was unimaginably disgusting. Picture the crud that gets deposited in the strainer in your sink after washing a sinkful of dishes. Yeah.

I let this boil on the stove for awhile in the newly silt-free broth, much longer than I thought would be necessary. The potatoes just did NOT want to get soft! But once the carrots were soft and the potatoes were reasonably close, I took it off the heat and called it done.

I had placed the chicken, corn, mushrooms, and onions into a casserole dish, into which I added the newly cooked carrots and a small portion of the potatoes. I mixed in some of this stuff:

and called it a casserole. I live in the South. If it has cream of something soup in it, it's a casserole, hands down.

I covered the dish with foil and left it overnight. Tonight for dinner, I sprinkled some breadcrumbs on it, baked it for about half an hour, and....drumroll please! Miracle of miracles, it was actually pretty good! I would never follow this recipe again, and it was much too hard won to be a desirable casserole to recreate, but at least my package of chicken did not go to waste.

And we even have leftovers for dinner tomorrow, as planned. Crisis averted.

Thanks for all of the comments and discussion on the last post. I always find it intriguing to hear both sides of an argument, and I can definitely see where some of you are coming from regarding the Eminem song. I feel maybe a bit less adamantly harsh toward it in light of other opinions, and I have to admit some respect for Eminem and Rhianna for speaking out on such a controversial topic.

That said, I am totally changing gears here to talk about...my Crock Pot. I somehow doubt this will elicit as much dialogue, but who knows? Perhaps I will be surprised.

I currently am feeling utterly disillusioned with my Crock Pot. It is a very, erm, retro contraption, with the great 90s kitchenware flowers. You know the ones I'm talking about:

Yeahhhh. It was a hand-me-over from my in-laws, who have upgraded to something a bit more like this:

What a difference ten years makes. But either way, I was glad to have it, and, with the recent onset of cold weather, had gotten super excited about all of the uber convenient things I could throw into it and having steaming and ready to eat upon my arrival home from work, which now unfortunately occurs post-sunset (thanks Daylight Savings).

I had played with the Crock Pot some earlier in the year. Inspired by a friend, I bought some sort of pork lump (a shoulder, or a butt, one of those) and thrown it in with an onion and some water. After it cooked all day and become succulent and shreddable, I attacked with a fork and threw it back into heat up with some barbecue sauce. It was delish. But then I tried said recipe a second time, and it utterly failed. At the time, I blamed it on the fact that I had bought a different cut of pork (which is not surprising, since I clearly didn't even know what I had bought the first time!). But also, at some point in the day, the Crock Pot did something strange, because when I came to check on it, the meat was, uh, NOT COOKED. So I turned it on high, which I blamed for making the meat a weird texture.

The question remains: what happened with the Crock Pot?

Well, I remained unscathed, or else just forgot about the incident, and yesterday was excited to prepare a chicken stew from a seemingly easy recipe from about.com. (Classy, I know.) My mother-in-law was attending an evening concert at church with Hubby and me, and I wanted a delicious fall meal waiting for us when we returned. However, due to an impromptu social lunch with friends after morning church, I did not get the ingredients (which I had even pre-cut the night before) into the pot as early as I had intended. So, I put it on high instead of low for a few hours, turned it back down before leaving for the concert, and assumed all would be well.

Au contraire.

After the concert, I came home and stirred the concoction. The chicken was cooked, but the potatoes and carrots were still hard as can be! Plus, since the chicken had essentially boiled in the broth, it had left little grosslets floating around. Not only was the stew not cooked, but it looked disgusting to boot.

LUCKILY, dinner was salvaged because I had cooked a quiche that afternoon intending it for Monday's dinner, so I just pulled it out and threw together a salad, while the stew continued (not) cooking for a replacement Monday dinner.

By bedtime the vegetables were still not done, at which point I gave up and ladled the mess into a giant container to be dealt with later.

So today I am left with two questions, with which I now challenge all of you:
1) Is my Crock Pot busted, and
2) What can I do with a large amount of semi-uncooked, grosslet-filled chicken stew?

I was driving home from church Wednesday night and heard a song on the radio that made me extremely uncomfortable. Now, I consider myself a pretty open-minded person, especially when it comes to music. I may not listen to songs with raunchy lyrics myself, but if you want to, that's fine with me. I'm not a prude. In the privacy of my car, I will jam out to the occasional rap or hip-hop song, usually without giving much thought to the lyrics. I owned an uncensored Eminem CD back in the day and only skipped a select few songs on it that I chose not to subject myself to. I think Eminem is a talented rapper, and some of his more controversial songs have not really caused me to bat an eye. But this most recent one of his that I heard caused me to bat more than an eye. Imagine my surprise at hearing my car radio emitting these lyrics:

"Now I know we said things, did things that we didn't mean
And we fall back into the same patterns, same routine
But your temper's just as bad as mine is
You're the same as me
But when it comes to love you're just as blinded
Baby, please come back
It wasn't you, baby it was me
Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems
Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano
All I know is I love you too much to walk away though
Come inside, pick up your bags off the sidewalk
Don't you hear sincerity in my voice when I talk
I told you this is my fault
Look me in the eyeball
Next time I'm pissed, I'll aim my fist at the drywall
Next time. There won't be no next time
I apologize even though I know its lies
I'm tired of the games I just want her back
I know I'm a liar
If she ever tries to f***ing leave again
Im'a tie her to the bed and set this house on fire
I'm just gonna

[Chorus - Rihanna:]
Just gonna stand there and watch me burn
But that's alright because I like the way it hurts
Just gonna stand there and hear me cry
But that's alright because I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie
I love the way you lie"
(http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/eminem/lovethewayyoulie.html)

ExCUUUUSE me?!? Did you see what just happened there?

I have no idea what kind of twisted message this song is trying to send. If Eminem is trying to encourage women to get out of abusive relationships, I'm pretty sure he fails. He instead romanticizes them and makes the cycle of violence, passionate false forgiveness, and lies somehow acceptable. He offers an excuse to all the men out there who have anger management problems that manifest themselves as physical abuse - "Maybe our relationship isn't as crazy as it seems / Maybe that's what happens when a tornado meets a volcano / All I know is I love you too much to walk away." And Rihanna, do you not remember that whole little incident with Chris Brown? She, of all people, has BEEN THERE, and I cannot FATHOM why she would choose to sing to a fictional abusive boyfriend that "it's all right because I love the way you lie."

My heart broke for all the women who will hear this song and recognize their own lives in it, who will hear it and think it is supporting their self-effacing choice to stay.

Ladies, I want you to know there are ways out. There are people who can protect you, and this song ought to tell you about them. It ought to help you find some strength, and it ought to tell you about the men out there who would never hit you and would never cause you to have to make this painful choice. It ought to tell you about love, forgiveness, healing, and redemption. But instead, it fails.

Perhaps the worst part of all of this is that song is so darn catchy. The refrain has been stuck in my head on and off since hearing the song, and on Thursday I even heard a coworker's phone ring and blast it out at me. She is a young and happily married woman, and I don't know what made her choose this as her ringtone. Is it just its catchy tune? Because if so, I ask you to wake up and listen to the lyrics for once.

This is one hip-hop song I just simply will not let myself enjoy because of the harmful message I believe it sends. I know Love, a Love that never fails, never hurts, and never deceives, a Love that died on a cross for me. And I know about a Love that provided me an earthly love to marry and share my life with. But for people in the world who don't know these things, I can't imagine what this song might teach them, and that...that I find unacceptable, Eminem.

Last night, I was in the closet putting dirty laundry in the hamper when Hubby walked into the otherwise dark bedroom and, apparently, couldn't find me. (It is a walk-in closet, so it's not as weird as it sounds.) He walked toward the sink, then back to the closet, where he said flatly, "Oh, you're in the closet. That's good" and proceeded to walk back to the sink and begin brushing his teeth. I peered out of the closet laughing, at which point he replied, through a mouthful of toothpaste, "What?! You could have married someone normal!" But given who I am and my own set of eccentricities, I'm not sure that ever would have really been an option. However, it's not like that will stop me from reiterating his line and teasing him every time he does something remotely odd...

Perhaps he could have married someone normal, too. :-)

"Tea should be taken in solitude [...]. For eating and reading are two pleasures that combine admirably. Of course not all books are suitable for mealtime reading. It would be a kind of blasphemy to read poetry at table. What one wants is a gossipy, formless book which can be opened anywhere."

-C. S. Lewis, from Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life

Unfortunately, I am not sure he would approve of me reading one of his own books while eating, as I just did. But I sure do enjoy a solitary lunch with my book. I have a vague memory from childhood that when my dad was out of town or not home for dinner, my mom and I would sometimes read at the table, which apparently Jimmy Carter grew up doing. I guess I am destined to become president and then win the Nobel Peace Prize. I hope hubby is ready for the spotlight.