My husband fondled another woman and I watched

Over the past few months, I have really been getting the husband into the whole Masterchef series thing - we have been watching the Australian season together and I literally have literally not known what to do with myself since the season has ended (I used literally twice in that sentence - it's legit.) For those new to this blog - I would like to mention that I cannot cook, at all - but don't take my word for it - see for yourself - that time I tried to boil an egg in the microwave. For Warren, watching Masterchef is about "getting some new tips", for me watching Masterchef is basically synonymous with watching a blood-pressured-war-time drama - because that is exactly the environment that the kitchen is for me.
A few weeks ago husband sent me a text message on his way home from work to say

Him: I have got SUCH a surprise for you tonight!
Me: Yeah - I know exactly what it is.
Him: No, you couldn't possibly know what it is.
Me: Yep. I absolutely do. It's a giant rack of lamb.
Him: Wow. Of ALL the things you could possibly have guessed... how on earth did you know that was it?!

You see,

What the husband has failed to realise, is that for the last three months, I have been quietly subliminally messaging him - Derren Brown style. Every single time we have seen a juicy looking rack of lamb being cooked up on Masterchef I have proclaimed, "MY! NOW THAT LOOKS SO TASTY!" or... "Oh no!! He didn't let his rack of lamb rest! I bet you would NEVER make that mistake, would you dear?!" (See what I did there?). I have gone so far as to subliminally message this idea into the husband's head while he is in the most receptive of dream-states -

So,  when he so very proudly announced that "HE HAD DECIDED TO COOK US UP A JUICY RACK OF LAMB!"

I was not at all surprised, because,

obviously -

I planned the whole thing.

So husband set about to cook us up some juicy rack of lamb! And it was juicy indeed!



The Warr first set about making the meat rub/paste thing - rosemary and mustard seeds and some salt and pepper and some other olive oil and cumin. (I think).


I put on my very awesome apron (painted for me by one of my friend's, Paddy - as an engagement gift) and set about drinking the wine.



At one point, I decided to throw caution to the wind, throw off my apron and decided to "help" and while the husband had his back turned, I thought I would just toss on some chilis into the pan that Husband had going.

Now, Let me give you a VERY handy cooking tip:

Throwing raw chili onto a dry heat pan will incur the EXACT same effect as spraying a whole cannister of anti-burglar pepper spray in your kitchen. We choked, coughed and spluttered our way to the windows to try and let in fresh air and we spent the rest of the evening literally sneezed and nursing our watering-eyes.
I was banned from the kitchen after that.

Which was obviously also my plan.

Husband took control of everything.
Which is of course, the very manly and attractive thing to do. Even the little lady potatoes were itching for a bit of handling from the hands of Chef Warren ala-husband-extra-ordinaire -

And he rubbed up those lady potatoes like they didn't know what hit 'em

Everyone in the kitchen was very admirning of his great cooking skills. (And by everyone, I mean - me, and the potatoes)

And let me just say -

that man -
He produced the goods:

Red wine, lamb racks and Mastercheffing for the win!

A night of super great success,

If I do say so myself!