I was really on the ball this morning. Got downstairs 15 minutes earlier than I usually do, whipped some scrambled eggs for breakfast, packed a good lunch and got to work preparing tonight’s dinner: Brie and brisket quesadillas.
I’ve actually been looking forward to this meal for quite a while because I haven’t made the Brie and brisket quesadillas since crock pot week back in February and that’s simply too long of a wait.
PLUS, I was finally going to try out those cool no-mess slow cooker liners that I bought, ohhh, months ago.
So I lined the crock pot, seasoned the meat, poured in the Dr. Pepper, snapped a few pics, put the lid on, plugged that bad boy in and jumped in the car for my 35 minute commute to the office.
I was car dancing to some great tunes during my drive; the upbeat kind of pop and hip hop that makes you forget its only Wednesday. But as I pulled into the parking lot, pop’s arch nemesis, Carly Simon, infiltrated Club Mazda with In The Wee Small Hours of the Morning (one of the saddest songs in history that should only be listened to on Sunday nights) and that’s when it hit me. I never turned the crock pot on.
An expensive, wasteful, and really disappointing mistake that I hope to never make again – but probably will – unless I can patent my latest idea: A crock pot that can be started, stopped or adjusted through a smart phone app.
I can manipulate my DVR this way – why not my slow cooker? Let’s get on that.
In the meantime, I need to brainstorm a replacement dinner for tonight and I’m taking any and all suggestions. Preferably something that involves Brie.
