A few days ago, I was feeling overwhelmed, cranky, and generally frazzled. So instead of completing that day’s to-do list, I called it quits and decided to do something for my soul (and the souls of anyone unfortunate enough to come in contact with my bitchy self on that particular day) – I got my butt in the kitchen and cooked. For 4 hours. Cooking is equivalent to therapy, no? I ended up making the world’s largest batch of Turkey Chili, and it was (and still is… the leftovers will be feeding my family for the next week) phenomenal. I used Jenna’s recipe (whose blog I am obsessed with and that I’m constantly scouring for new food ideas), tweaking it just a touch to appease my brothers’ spicy food aversion:
Sadly, my corn bread effort was a massive fail. Epic, even.
I had a second attempt at edible cornbread last night, but unfortunately, it was only a slight improvement from round 1. In other words, another catastrophe. My mom forgave me, then promptly bought pre-made bread from BJs. Moms know best. Especially when they treat you to cocktail hour on a random weekday: