Beef Bourguinon

I suppose every blog has its seed of germination. A story that compels the writer to write. My story started in the kitchen on August 17, 2025.

I push my cold chicken around on a plate of steak sauce. I can't take another bite. My mind, or body, or both can no longer tolerate endless days of air-fryer chicken and steak sauce. How long have I been eating like this Months? Years? Whatever the case, I make a decision to cook a meal. This meal will not involve the use of an air-fryer, steak sauce, or any other condiment. I will cook it on the stove using pans and bowls and all of the other kitchen implements that have been collecting dust in my cabinets. I am embarking on a new adventure, and, like all adventures of the modern era, mine begins on the internet.

It's August, but I'm longing for fall. Chalk that up to the pumpkin bread I bought at the store this past weekend. And so, I type into that trusty search engine "fall recipes". The page populates with endless sites and blogs for cooking. I browse through the photos and settle on Beef Bourguignon. I don't even know how to pronounce it, but it looks good, and my hunger is breeding impatience. After a quick look over the introductory paragraph, I order the necessary ingredients from our local grocery store. Slight complication. I realize that I do not own a dish to bake in the oven. No problem, I think. I can do the sautéing on the stove and dump everything in the slow-cooker to finish it off. I pick up the groceries at 6pm and take them inside. At this point I'm starving so this had better be good. I pull back up the tab with the recipe and scroll down to a section of blurred text. Oh shit. The recipe is behind a paywall. I do not have the recipe instructions or the ingredient portions. This isn't looking good for me, but I have a $20 chuck roast and a ravenous appetite. My best effort will have to do.

I won't bore you with the steps that followed, but let's just say it was a rough interpretation of the summary I had read. By this time, my impatience had ratcheted up to ravenously homicidal. I switched the slow cooker to high and put it on for 1.5 hours.

My hunger overtakes me after an hour of waiting on the slow-cooker, and I tentatively scoop a spoonful of my meal into a bowl. The picture had a nice brown colored sauce, but my concoction is looking more like chocolate pudding. No matter as long as it tastes good. I take a bite and assess the situation. The taste is not good, but not terrible; however, the carrots are still raw. My situation might seem bleak, but as a perennially helpless cook I have learned to tolerate a lot of less-than-delectable meals. It wasn't a success, but it's still better than air-fryer chicken.

So why the blog? Because I think my ineptitude in the kitchen at the age of 43 is hilarious and I love to talk about hilarious things. And because I've decided to make the adventure of cooking a bigger part of my life. After all, life is too short for air-fryer chicken.