Cabin Fever and Trouble in the Galley

Phew! Who knew a two bedroom apartment with four people in it could feel so small? Well, when I say it like that it makes perfect sense.

Yesterday I didn't even get out of grubby clothes. I spent the day helping my mom clean and cook. She had a hair appointment at 3:30, but she was in such a rush to get there in time her mind changed the appointment to 3:00. So, as she was rushing out the door, she put a box of cornflake crumbs (comparable to shake-n-bake crumbs) on the counter and said, "You know how to make chicken, I'll be back in a little bit!" Well, here is where I must confess something. The only reason I managed to put three meals a day on the table of Love Memorial Hall is because I had a cell phone that got reception in the basement. That's right. I inherited my mom's recipes and also ran up my cell phone bills when it was my week to cook. I still need someone to coach me through the little things when I'm cooking. So there, I'm out with it. I'm not the master cook some of you believe me to be.

Meanwhile, after two frantic cell phone calls placed to my mother(which she didn't answer) I'd managed to coat the chicken in the crumbs (after accidentally opening a can of condensed milk, which is not the same as evaporated milk), and put the chicken in the oven with the lid on. My mom comes home an hour or so later and says, "You're not supposed to put the lid on the chicken! Now it won't be crunchy!"

For any of you who have had shake-n-bake chicken you will understand that part of the delight of shake-n-bake chicken is that the crumbs are crunchy. Well, after nearly 45 minutes of baking with the lid on, the crumbs on my chicken were scrumptiously soggy. So I said to my mother, "The next time you want crunchy chicken, you should either give me more specific instructions or answer your cell phone." My mother gave me a hug and said the chicken would be fine. So, my family and I sat down to a dinner of soggy chicken, oven fries, peas and corn, and salad. It was not my proudest moment, but my family was all gracious enough to eat my chicken.

P.S. The title of this entry of course has everything to do with ships. Cabin fever is extreme irritability and restlessness from living in isolation or a confined indoor area for a prolonged time, and the galley refers to the kitchen area of a ship. Just a little FYI.