The Attack Of The Baby Bullet

A cowardly person who withdraws from doing something out of lack of nerve is the perfect way to describe myself when it comes to cooking meat. To simplify; I am a chicken.

Undercooking the meat is my number one concern. Because of this I end up over cooking it, which makes it look and taste like plastic.

With my track record I have shied away from making the girls meat. I decided to buy the jarred chicken and beef instead to play it safe.

Yesterday we tried the chicken.

The girls gagged and spit it out instantly! I don’t blame them. Who wants to eat jarred meat!

I had to suck it up and try making the chicken on my own without turning it into plastic.

I decided the crock-pot was my best bet.

I spent six hours making the girls chicken and carrots yesterday.

I cleaned the chicken.

I cut the chicken into little squares.

I washed the carrots.

And finally, I put it all in the crock-pot.

OK, so I didn’t literally spend six hours making this meal. I spend 20 minutes prepping and then 5 1/2 hours checking on its progress as it simmered in the crock-pot.

After six hours I put the chicken and carrots into the baby bullet (something I have never used before) and looked for the start button.


Instead I pushed and twisted the cover to the baby bullet and it came to life. The meat and carrots slowly became a lovely pureed meal.

Because there was no start and stop button I removed the cap when it looked ready and out it flew.

Pureed chicken and carrots splattered on my face and walls. It landed in my hair. It covered my clothes.

I have found yet another reason I hate cooking meat!

Luckily there was enough left to last the girls a few days so I stored it in the freezer.

Hopefully they enjoy this home cooked meal!

2 thoughts on “The Attack Of The Baby Bullet

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