Wednesday, November 9, 2011

I'm creating a new tag...

Dating is decidedly becoming less and less of the bullshit variety with every date I've gone on lately.

I went on a second date with Travis, and I have to rant and rave about his mad skills... In the kitchen.

Seriously, trying to figure out something to do in this godforsaken town on a Sunday night besides the tired old 'dinner and a movie' schtick is damn difficult. So he invited me over to his place for dinner and said he would cook for me.

I will never say no to food, kittens. Then, he one-upped himself. He told me what he was planning on making.

Bacon (!!!) and goat cheese stuffed chicken with homemade mushroom risotto. Bacon, cheese and risotto? Dear sweet baby Jesus, I was drooling like mad. It was on like Donkey Kong, bitches. So we made plans for Sunday evening. I told him I would make him dessert, and finally decided on Oreo Butterscotch cheesecake.

This is already shaping up to be an amazing evening, no? Then I offered to bring the movie I Hope They Serve Beer In Hell as Travis hadn't yet seen it... With vernacular gems such as, "If you ever speak ill of the pancakewich again, I will force feed you one while I fuck you in the ass using the wrapper as a condom, and then donkey punch you when the infused syrup nugget explodes!" and "I'd rather fellate a hot curling iron than drive 250 miles because Tucker breast-fed until he was nine." What's not to love?!

I show up at 6 with cheesecake in tow. He wrapped his arm around me, put his hand on the small of my back (which is seriously a huge thing for me, I love it) and kissed me hello. Boy, it was warm in his house...

Then I got to watch him cook. He's pretty damn adept in the kitchen. Everything smelled absolutely amazing, and most everything was done or well on it's way to done by the time I arrived. I offered to help, was there anything he needed me to do? Oh, grill the asparagus?

I meant is there anything I KNOW how to do? No? Alright then. I'll stand here and watch. :)

Dinner consisted of bacon and goat cheese stuffed chicken, mushroom risotto and fresh grilled asparagus with lemon butter sauce. It. Was. Fucking. Amazing. He is such an excellent cook. We brought our plates into the living room and ate dinner. After we finished eating, we cuddled on the couch and just relaxed. (Yeah, yeah, get the, 'awwww' out of your system)

After Tucker Max was done, I sliced and diced the cheesecake, drizzled the slices liberally with butterscotch, and Travis made fun of my springform pan. It was fancy, or so he said. He seemed to be thoroughly impressed with my baking skills. He accused me of buying the cheesecake and trying to pass it off as my own. Um, no... Totally all me. I rock in the pastry department.

Then we watched Talladega Nights and cuddled some more. All in all, a very fabulous, relaxing evening.

My son is also apparently well on his way to becoming a nudist. Seriously, we're in the door less than ten minutes and his monkey ass is stripped down to his underwear. What is it with children parading around nearly nude?

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