IN THE BUF: CHICKEN POT PIE

 

We all represent ourselves as fabulous, juicy, one-of-a-kind filet mignons but over time, in relationships, we end up dry burnt cheeseburgers. It is human nature and if we are honest with ourselves, it would be apparent that most of us are guilty. This behavior is commonly referred to as “THE HONEYMOON PHASE.” We are like fishermen that dangle a worm into the water in hopes of catching the best fish in the lake.
The honneymoon phase can consist of: frequent roses, home- cooked dinners, candles, poems, eye gazing, hand holding and random surprise gifts. Take me for example. When I went on my first date with my now Mister Man, he treated me to a lovely meal at Guiseppie’s. We shared expensive wine and enjoyed live piano music. He had called in advance to get us the best table in the house. Another perk of the honeymoon phase. Our dinner was going fabulously; the conversation was delightful and it was evident that we were both falling fast. He and I discussed how different the dating scene is these days compared to how it must have been for our parents and grandparents. We laughed about how bizarre it must be for high school kids who seem to know nothing about cards or letter writing because this generation’s relationships often begin and end via text messaging and code words such as OMG, LOL, IS, LUV and SOL. Aiming to impress, and without thinking this through entirely, I found myself blurting out the fact that I made the best Chicken Pot Pie on the planet. Mister Man proceeded to tell me that Chicken Pot Pie was his absolute favorite dish. SCORE! He shared with me his opinion that it was terrible that nobody seemed to like to cook anymore. I smiled and whole heartedly agreed, but was a bit concerned because I knew good and well that other than scrambling an egg, Chicken Pot Pie was the only item that I knew how to cook…
The following weekend we made plans to have dinner at my house. My pot pie would be put to the test. I took a long shower prior to his arrival and conditioned my hair ten minutes longer than usual. I found myself dieting that week as I wanted to look my best and actually busted out the most painful shoes that typically lived in the back of my closet. Another perk of the honeymoon phase. I bought all new vanilla candles and lit the fireplace. It was the first fire of the year as the evenings has just started getting chilly. It was finally tailgating season, my favorite time of the year. It had been a while since I made my infamous pie but it was falling into place nicely. The evening could not have gone any better and he agreed that it was the best Chicken Pot Pie he had ever tasted. He was so impressed and I was proud.
We made plans for the following weekend and this time he invited me to his house. His home was so clean and the smell of garlic bread filled the air. He had prepared a fantastic entrée of spaghetti complete with homemade meatballs. It was nothing less than fabulous! I had to admit that a meal of this caliber was not what I expected from a guy, as it had certainly never been my experience. All of my previous relationships consisted of hot dogs and frozen pizzas. After dinner we sat on the sofa gazing into each other’s eyes. How could this be any more perfect? Well, other than the fact that I was clearly misleading him, all the way down to my shoes. (They were killing my feet and I was dying to get my jammies on and bear shaped fuzzy house slippers.) He smiled as he told me that he had shared with his mother what a fabulous chef I was. Gulp…how could I break it to him that Chicken Pot Pie was the only thing on the planet I could cook? I just smiled and thanked him.
A couple weeks later, I had some friends over for dinner along with my new boyfriend. He seemed to enjoy my Chicken Pot Pie almost as much as the first time. But the third time I prepared the pie, I noticed suspicion on his face. Finally, our relationship had evolved to the point that it was time for me to meet his family. His mother was a delightful lady with loads of charisma. She was a homemaker and it was obvious where he learned how to keep a clean home. His sister was in high school and seemed to like poking fun of him. I almost found her annoying until she looked at me and giggled. “So, let me guess”…she blurted out…”he swept you away with… spaghetti & meatballs!”
Awwww, YES — he was busted!


Posted on 2014-10-01 by Buffy Lawson
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