chut-ney!

our dinner sunday night reminded michael and me of the first meal i made that we had to pitch.

during our first seven months of marriage, we lived in student housing because michael was an ra. free tuition. free room. free board, for us both. so, we spent more time in the dining hall than this newly married bride would have preferred. especially since the closest dining hall to our apartment was the one in the largest all-male dorm in the country. nothing quite like eating dinner with 1500 smelling single men to make you appreciate all things feminine.

by the time we rented our first apartment i was eager to cook for my husband. perhaps a little too eager. we both, i mean, michael gained 15 pounds our first year of marriage. i was so excited about cooking that i wanted to try all the exotic recipes in my betty crocker cookbook. betty and i got to be good friends those first months in our apartment. she only let me down once.

one night, clearly living in the fog of newly-wedded bliss and unable to make wise, rationale decisions, i decided i would cook for my new husband a delectable meal of tandoori chicken and chutney. i still don't know what possessed me to try to cook an indian dish i'd NEVER HEARD OF OR EATEN. love. it was love, i tell you.

the spicy yogurt marinade was the weirdest thing this midwest farmer's daughter has ever made. i followed the directions as best as i could, and as i cooked the chicken in the skillet, the thick marinade entirely blackened the bottom of my pan. i thought i'd ruined the pan. determined to not be overcome, i continued. i never even called my mom who wouldn't have known what tandoori chicken was, anyway.

the kicker to the recipe was the chutney i spent a couple hours making, described by betty as "both a little sweet and a little sour." i remember thinking, we both like sweet and sour chicken. this will be good! i didn't realize that by sweet and sour, betty actually meant vile.

the chutney was horrendous. i refused to eat the meal. my sweet husband did his best to stomach the chicken, after scraping off the chutney, but in the end we ordered a pizza. for the first time ever.