My roommate and I have been living in our apartment together for a little over 15 months now. And like the parent of an infant child, I’ve been counting our cohabitation in months rather than years. During this time I have wined and dined my lady love with some truly inspired and delicious meals. I have also come eerily close to poisoning her with some of my more inedible cooking catastrophes.
While it is almost always glaringly obvious which category a particular meal might fall into, sometimes, like Robin Thicke’s marital vows, the lines can get a little blurry. This was the case with my deconstructed chicken parm. The recipe called for a skillet. I used a 5-qt dutch oven. The recipe called for sliced mozzarella. I used string cheese. It was a creative interpretation of the recipe. At best.
But before you go on calling me Chef Boyare-don’t, let me tell you this stuff was delicious. There’s something about phallic shaped processed cheese that was just so much more delicious than its fresh round counterpart.