I can't wait to welcome home my Husband in high heels with a freshly baked cake in my hands.
Kinda something like this...
Lets be honest...the view will probably be more of a version such as...
In fact, after I had been engaged for about a week my Dad came to me kindly, sat me down and gave me a conversation that sounded something like this...
"So your getting married, huh? You might want to learn how to cook." Thanks, Dad.
Don't get my Father wrong, I have baked a few cookies, I have boiled a few noodles, but thinking about putting together a fully balanced and nutritious meal for a new Hubby was enough to put me in a cold sweat. And in that tender parental moment, something hit me...I could do this. I could sauce a pizza, throw a salad together, cook a cupcake, or if all else fails, nicely set out some cheerios and milk.
Who was my Father kidding? I am Betty Crocker. I am Martha Stewart. Actually, I am Catherine Card, but dangit, hear me and my kitchen aide roar! I would show him. And I did. I enlisted my sweet Mother and of course my trusty pinterest cookbook, and I was ready.
I first took on the challenge of cookies and baked goods. I delivered them to friends and neighbors, because, lets be honest I have a wedding dress to fit in and that sugar would go straight to my hips.
One day, I couldn't decide whether to bake cookies OR brownies. So I made both. Together. And they were downright delicious. I was becoming daring and confident with my spatula!
For Thanksgiving I was in charge of the green beans.
My mother decided to start me off easy.
Maybe next year I will tackle the gravy.
No wait, just kidding!
Too much pressure.
Luckily, Peyton enjoys salads. And I enjoy the fact that they are relatively foolproof.
Thank you, sweet man!
On my quest to become the next Iron chef, a couple menu items have included pasta, pot roast, mac and cheese, and (drum roll, please..)...homemade wontons!
And so the challenge continues...
Will Peyton stay alive with Catherine's cooking? Will the Buhlers be happily fed?
Will Dad admit that I do, in fact, know my way around the kitchen?
Time will tell. Stay tuned.
(Oh, P.s. Peyton, we are definitely
splurging on a joint gym membership.)