When I got invited to do a freezer meal swap I was all in. Let’s be honest. I’m a little more Betty Crockpot than Crocker, if ya feel me. All I was going to have to do was prepare 2 different recipes for the group and I’d be bringing home 12 meals. Easy enough right?!
My sister, Mimi, was included in the exchange so we decided to prep our food together. We learned very quickly this wasn’t going to be as easy as we had imagined. It began with Split Pea Soup. Mimi had prepped her peas by soaking them since the early morning for hours. She arrived at my front later that afternoon with pots overflowing with damp green legumes. More dreams of ease start being crushed when we realize we don’t seem to have enough stove space or pots to accommodate the soup. Yet, we manage to start simmering the split peas and move on to prep of the next meal.
25 onions chopped later, we’re starting to sweat. WINE PLEASE. My stove top is starting to gurgle and bubble, army green liquid splattering about. Our other sister arrives and I get her to start opening cans of black beans for me. Again, 24 cans later and carpal tunnel beginning to throb, I decide to text the woman who organized the meal swap. At this point I imagine she’s drowning in the kitchen like us. I’m concerned about her!
Here’s a little how the text conversation goes:
Me: Meal Swap 2018 happening. All I can say is WOW.
Me: Overwhelmed, Yes. Grateful for my big kitchen island but not enough pots, pans and stove space.
Her: What are you using pots and pans for?!
…Ugh, gulp…what do you mean? We’re meal prepping…
She calls after she quickly learns that things have gone off the rails. Can you say “train wreck?” I start to laugh-cry (you know the kind) as she explains we weren’t supposed to actually cook the food. We were just supposed to put the raw ingredients in freezer bags, ready for a slow cooker. I look at Mimi. She’s getting a little teary eyed. I head towards the wine. WINE PLEASE. NOW PLEASE. Screw the glass, gimme the bottle. JK its a box.
We were literally supposed to dump the food into bags and call it a day. GUYS, WE HAD BEEN IN THE KITCHEN FOR 5 HOURS. That doesn’t include the pea pre-soak. Part shaking-part crying- part laughing we attempt to breathe again. My husband was home at this point sitting on the couch like “what in the world did I seriously just come home to?” Yet, he’s never surprised. Another day, another hot mess. I like to keep things exciting in our marriage. *winks*
A slight bit of relief washes over us since we’re happy we won’t have to pull an all-nighter on this meal prep. Too bad we couldn’t finish it all then and there. Nope, 4 steaming hot pots of soup had to cool before bagging. So lucky us, the fun continued the next day.
I don’t think I’ll ever run out of hot mess stories to share with you. They just. Keep. Coming.
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