Jeff:  Ooh blueberry cobbler! My favorite. Is that what you are making for dinner?

We’ve been together for 22 years and he knows me. Having dessert for dinner on a cold icy snow-stormy night would not be that far-fetched. But not tonight. Tonight I wanted to impress him. Contrary to popular belief, I really do like to impress my husband from time to time.  I think he rocks.

Me: No, I’m making Cornish hens for dinner. The cobbler is for dessert.

Before you start thinking I’m this wonderful cook or something, I really need to tell you that my house has a kitchen because it came with one. And my family is well fed because, well… I try, but you know…I’m not Julia Child. I’m not even that other Julia chick that wrote the blog that got made into a movie. I’m the daughter of a baby boomer. I don’t sew and cooking is questionable. 

Granted I do have my days where I am able to cook fantabulous meals. I think I just made that word up. Fantabulous is a good word. It means edible.

Apparently though, today is not one of those fantabulous days.

In honor of today’s winter storm I want to be daring and cook a fancy meal. I want to cook the kind of meal that is great to eat by candlelight, in case the power goes out. With my Cornish hens thawing in a sink full of cool water, I whip up a mean blueberry cobbler thing — (Cheaters cobbler: canned blue berries with yellow cake mix sprinkled on top. Dot with butter and bake for 30 minutes at 350 degrees.)

I bake the hens at 350 degrees for 90 minutes. They are brown and yummy looking. The legs wiggle when I move them and juices from the breast runs clear. They are P-E-R-F-E-C-T.  I carefully set each plate with one Cornish hen, mashed potatoes and steamed snow peas. Everything looks and smells wonderful! My husband smiles, I smile and my son (who is already cutting into his hen) asks, “Mom is chicken supposed to bleed red all over everything?”

You know, blueberry cobbler for dinner on a cold, snowy night isn’t really that bad.