Evening Meals

Myra dropped another piece of seasoned meat into the vat of boiling oil. The grease sizzled and cracked as it began to cook the chicken wing. She had discovered that deep frying the chicken was much more desirable to achieve optimum flavor and crispiness.

The evening meal, in Myra's eyes, was the greatest task she had to undertake each evening. Whenever she would locate a new recipe on the Food Network or from a simple Google search on her phone, she was always eager to put the recipe into manufacturing. Nothing would give her greater satisfaction than to hear the "mmms" and belches coming from her satiated family.

Myra dropped two more pieces of chicken into the deep fryer and went to the kitchen island. There she had unpackaged fresh string beans; they were crisp even before being cooked. She chopped up some onion as well as turned on the stove. The plan was to bake the string beans with the onions to help bring out the flavor hidden inside of the vegetable, but even more so. Myra also sprinkled some Mrs. Dash seasoning onto the string beans, just to give that much more kick.

Once the string beans were properly prepped she opened the oven and placed the pre-greased tray, with the seasoned string beans on them, on the center of the rack. She then closed the oven door. The oil had begun to slow in its fervent popping, Myra knew this meant a few of the pieces of chicken were ready to be removed from the oil.

Myra grabbed her tongs and peered into the deep fryer. She knew that when the meat floated to the top of the grease then it was ready to be pulled. She reached down with the tongs and grabbed the first piece of chicken, a leg. She rotated and looked at it pressed between the metal tongs, examining the even cook of the deep fryer. The leg was a golden brown with a few darker patches on it. She loved this because that part of the skin would be extremely crisp and flavorful. She would save that one for her husband.

After the grabbing the next two prepared pieces of chicken she went to ignite the back left burner of the stovetop; she had already prepped a pot with jasmine brown rice. After a while the water began to boil and the rice was being prepared. This was a technique Myra picked up whilst in culinary class in high school. The method was called dovetailing, which meant having several things going all at once so as to increase effectiveness. If everything is cooking at once, then everything would be prepared and plated at once. Same went with cleaning dishes; while waiting on things to cook she could simultaneously clean the dishes that were piling up.

As the chicken continued to fry, Myra did just that, moving to the sink to begin the cleaning process of cooking. The water was warm on her hands, the soap was soothing between her fingers as she worked up a lather on the dish rag. Her thoughts were of her own satisfaction in the art of cooking. She imagined how great it would feel when her husband and children came home to devour her meal. Hearing her husband sing praises of her crafted foods always made her sleep better at night and want to snuggle up next to him more.

She placed the clean cutting board to the side for drying, then the measuring cup, then the knife she used. She dried her hands off and went to open the oven and check on the string beans. They were starting to smell good. Once again her tongs were in her hand after closing the oven. She reached the metal pinchers down into the fryer again and picked up another fully cooked, golden brown piece of chicken. There was a plate off to the side of the stove that had paper towels in it. Myra was placing the finished chicken onto this plate. The jasmine brown rice had begun to boil slightly more, bubbles were becoming visible within the lidded pot.

Just then there was a key turning the back door of the house. Her husband opened the door and entered the living room, and then motioned into the kitchen to greet his wife.

"Hey honey," Myra said with a warm smile.

"Hey babe," Rey replied. "How was your day?"

"It was really good, how was yours?"

"Mine was excellent as well."

"That is wonderful," Myra replied, grabbing another piece of chicken from the fryer. "I hope you're hungry, I ended up making more chicken then I had realized."

"Oooh," Rey said, twisting his mouth, "I'm actually not. This lovely prostitute offered to buy me a Cookout tray in exchange for a ride to a corner downtown. Now, I took it, it was an honest transaction."

"Oh oh, right," Myra said, looking to Rey with a smirk, "and I'm guessing they're gonna want to make you your dinners from now on? Since you're a hoe Uber?"

"Oh please, no one could ever touch your immaculate concoctions. Not even a cleavage showing street-walker."

Myra chuckled at her husband's response.

"And don't you forget it," Myra said. "Well it'll be finished in about ten or fifteen minutes."

"Okay awesome, just enough time to shower and unwind. Where are Jase and Lila?"

"Jase is still at practice and Lila said she was spending the night with Rory."

"Okay awesome," Rey said, moving toward Myra slowly. "that means we have a couple hours of alone time."

Rey unbuttoned his top shirt button as he moved toward Myra. She backed away with a smile on her face.

"Ahh, ahh. No dessert before dinner."

"Sweet," Rey said, "that means dessert may definitely be on the menu tonight!"

He darted out of the kitchen and began heading upstairs. Myra smiled and shook her head, opening the oven again to check on the string beans. She grabbed a spatula and began turning the beans over so they could crisp on the other side. Myra closed the oven door. She pulled a piece of skin from a piece of chicken on the plate. The crunch was that of a brittle fall leaf. She instantly became proud of herself for expertly knowing when to pull the pieces of meat. The jasmine brown rice had reached the point where majority of the water had been cooked out, so Myra turned off its burner. She also turned off the burner with the boiling oil as well as the oven; she figured the lingering heat would be enough to finish cooking the other side of the string beans, crisping them to perfection.

She knew her husband would be very eager for dessert after eating her amazingly crafted, yet wildly simplistic, meal. She also knew that he could very well fall into a food induced coma right afterward, laying on her. Either scenario she was more than content with. After turning off all of the stove and its heat, she turned to the sink to continue washing dishes.