...and on Day 4 of my crock-pot challenge, I invented this strange dish.
You'll have to tune in tomorrow to find out if it was any good, since I have no idea if it's delicious or a disaster. It came to me this morning, as I stood in the kitchen, sipping coffee and trying to ignore my bossy, screaming child. (He was devastated there were no hot air balloons in the sky, a common sight on our side of town. We've been spoiled with lots of 'hot balloons!' all week, but there were none today. It crushed him, and in typical toddler form, he took it out on me. Angry, angry Bear, indeed.)
Anyways...back to the food. The chicken smells good...I just hope it tastes good, too. Here's hoping.
Chicken Tomato Crapshoot
2 breasts of chicken
2 cups (or a jar) of marinara sauce (I used my own)
1 can of diced tomatoes
8 oz of cream cheese (I used the whipped kind, since it was in our fridge and about to expire at the end of this month)
1 Tbl. Italian seasoning
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp garlic salt
Once again...dump everything in the crock-pot. Set on high, and cook for 6 hours.
On a different note, yet another dishwasher repair man was over this afternoon. He was the same guy from this past Monday, and Scotty really took a shine to him. He arrived the same time we did, as we came home from music lessons, and Scotty put on quite the show for him during lunch. Aside from going all Romanian orphan on him and thrashing about as I attempted to put food in front of him (while wailing "nooooo!" of course), Scotty also let loose these choice phrases:
"Loooove dishwasher man! Hi dishwasher man!" (okay, more endearing than annoying, I'll give him that. There was lots of waving and shy glances, too. Cute.)
"Mmm....tasty! Boogies are tasty!" (the consistency of his oatmeal was questionable, but at least he liked that portion of the meal).
and my personal favorite...
"Dishwasher man...making poo-poos! Dishwasher man making poo-poos!? Ewwww!" (complete with finger pointed and hand waving.)
Good time. I just hope our dishwasher is finally, finally, fixed. So my child can stop harassed the repair men that have to come to our house.
You'll have to tune in tomorrow to find out if it was any good, since I have no idea if it's delicious or a disaster. It came to me this morning, as I stood in the kitchen, sipping coffee and trying to ignore my bossy, screaming child. (He was devastated there were no hot air balloons in the sky, a common sight on our side of town. We've been spoiled with lots of 'hot balloons!' all week, but there were none today. It crushed him, and in typical toddler form, he took it out on me. Angry, angry Bear, indeed.)
Anyways...back to the food. The chicken smells good...I just hope it tastes good, too. Here's hoping.
Chicken Tomato Crapshoot
2 breasts of chicken
2 cups (or a jar) of marinara sauce (I used my own)
1 can of diced tomatoes
8 oz of cream cheese (I used the whipped kind, since it was in our fridge and about to expire at the end of this month)
1 Tbl. Italian seasoning
1 tsp dried oregano
1 tsp garlic salt
Once again...dump everything in the crock-pot. Set on high, and cook for 6 hours.
On a different note, yet another dishwasher repair man was over this afternoon. He was the same guy from this past Monday, and Scotty really took a shine to him. He arrived the same time we did, as we came home from music lessons, and Scotty put on quite the show for him during lunch. Aside from going all Romanian orphan on him and thrashing about as I attempted to put food in front of him (while wailing "nooooo!" of course), Scotty also let loose these choice phrases:
"Loooove dishwasher man! Hi dishwasher man!" (okay, more endearing than annoying, I'll give him that. There was lots of waving and shy glances, too. Cute.)
"Mmm....tasty! Boogies are tasty!" (the consistency of his oatmeal was questionable, but at least he liked that portion of the meal).
and my personal favorite...
"Dishwasher man...making poo-poos! Dishwasher man making poo-poos!? Ewwww!" (complete with finger pointed and hand waving.)
Good time. I just hope our dishwasher is finally, finally, fixed. So my child can stop harassed the repair men that have to come to our house.
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