I made a horrible and very stupid mistake on Monday night:
I was cooking a large amount of tandoori chicken to freeze for lunches. While waiting for it to cook, my man and I got rather intoxicated. The timer on the stove buzzed, and I decided to sample the food. Because of my state, I somehow didn’t notice that the meat hadn’t completely cooked until I had eaten nearly the whole piece. I hadn’t considered that because there was so much more chicken than the original recipe called for that more cooking time would be needed. I put the roaster back in the oven and cooked it for enough time to actually cook the chicken right through, then let it cool, and put it in the fridge so that I could package it the next morning, and went to bed. I then tried to sleep, but after a few hours I was feeling pretty sick, and ended up spending the whole night and most of Tuesday worshipping at the porcelain alter.
Of course now I have lots of tasty tandoori in my fridge that I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat any of. I tried to get my guy to eat some last night, but because he’d seen how sick it made me, he accused me of using him as a guinea pig, and possibly trying to kill him. So I now have a face covered in broken capillaries from retching for hours and hours, and pounds of chicken no one wants to eat.