My education, that is. In a previous post, I mentioned that we don't grill very often. Part of that is because I don't know what I'm doing! Growing up, "grilling" at my house meant that about once every year, we would buy a bag of charcoal at the store, listen to my dad curse under his breath trying to get the fire started (while smelling an overwhelming amount of lighter fluid in the air) and then throw some hamburgers and hot dogs on the grill. Yep, good times...good times. Needless to say, I didn't get many lessons on grilling at home. I realize that this it is a stereotypical role, but many husbands are the grill masters at their houses. Not mine. I love him dearly, but D doesn't have much more knowledge than I do when it comes to grilling. Plus, and I'll be honest here, I'm a bit of a control freak when it comes to cooking, so I have a hard time letting someone else be in charge. He's okay with that. Or at least...
baking, blogging and trying to stay sane