Slow Cooking Update: Day 1

So far, the slow cooker and I are already at odds. It's only day one, and already I want to quit.

I picked a recipe today that only requires 5 hours of cooking time. Axel doesn't get home today till 7:30 p.m., so I figure I've got all time in the world.

After rummaging through my pantry this morning, I realize I am missing garlic, a yellow onion and white wine for today's recipe. Okay, no problem. A quick trip to the grocery store will take care of my culinary needs.

At the supermarket, I manage to find all items except the wine. So I hit another grocery store. Then another. Puzzled, I finally remember to ask someone for help.

"Excuse me, do you have any wine?" At this point, Mugga is lunging for a bottle of Izze.

"JUUUICE!" she screams. I patiently tell her Izzes are not juice. At least not 100 % juice. They do however, have no refined sugars and are made up of 70 % percent juice. So maybe one day Mugga, I'll give you an Izze instead of a soda. Unfortunately for you, that day is not today.

The grocery store employee looks at me with pity. Maybe she thinks this mom needs a good stiff drink right about now. Oh, and Mugga also has snot running down her face. I have no tissues on hand, so I wipe her nose with my shirt.

"We don't carry hard liquor," she says. "You have to go to a liquor store for wine."

Turns out, absolutely NO grocery stores in my area carry wine. This is a fact I did not know, since I am not an alcohol consumer. Maybe it is a nation wide rule, but I feel this is unfair.

Actually, I'm a little bit annoyed at this point. Trader Joes always carried wine. Why can't other grocery stores carry wine?!? Why can't other grocery stores be like Trader Joes? Then I begin to feel sorry for myself that I live in an area with no Trader Joes. I also realize this also means another trip with my tired hungry toddler in the car, and I feel even more sorry for myself.

I pick up some chicken from the deli for Mugs, and we are off to the liquor store. At this point, she is almost 2 hours over her regular nap time. The folks are the liquor store are nice. They help me find a nice inexpensive white wine. They are patient with Mug when she wipes her greasy hands on the credit card machine. They even smile at my kid when she offers them a bite of her drumstick. Bless you, people who know liquor.

By this point, it is 3 o'clock. Mugga goes down for a nap, and I get busy in the kitchen. I cut the potatoes, browned the chicken, chopped the bacon. All is going according to plan until the time comes for me to simmer the white wine. I realize I have no idea how to open up a bottle of wine. I stare at this foreign object on my table, and it stares back.

There's a cork. I have no cork screw. I peel off the sticker around the neck thinking maybe there is another trick to this bottle, but no. Nothing else. The 2 inch cork is separating me from the wine and completing my dinner. I have absolutely no idea how to get to it. I am stumped.

Even after all the hassle it's taken me to obtain the alcohol, I want to give up. I want to smash the bottle over the counter. I just need a cup and a half. Surely I can get that if I break it open. This is so frustrating. Crock pot cooking sucks.

Then, a miracle happens. My younger sister walks through the door. She listens to me sob about my horrible day. How the crock pot is in conspiracy with the wine to foil my dinner. I just know that stupid slow cooker is laughing at me.

My sister picks up a butter knife, hammers it in to the cork and saves the day. She's only 18 and I don't know if she should know how to do this.

So right now, my meal is cooking. A nice slow simmer. Dinner should be done around 8 o'clock. If we lived in New York, this would be early.

I'm just crossing my fingers it's worth it.