It’s so cold here, the US Postal Service suspended delivery. Even more astounding, the bars are closing. People! I live in Wisconsin. Even the BARS are closing.
We’re all gonna die! I mean, we’re all gonna die regardless, but these are strange times. My kids have gone to school twice in the last seven weekdays. And school has been cancelled for tomorrow. The day after that isn’t looking too good either. Did I mention that both my husband and I work from home? And that there’s zero soundproofing between the floors?
Still, we can’t complain. The house is warm. The larder is full. Unlike many people, we haven’t missed any work. We loaded up on books and DVDs from the library. We all enjoyed watching Inside Out. Everyone’s favorite character—Anger (Thomas: *taking notes*). And the biggest silver lining to our forced confinement? I made something in my Instant Pot! Turns out, after all this quality time with my children—yes, let’s read Truckery Rhymes for the 32nd time!—reading this line in the Instant Pot’s user manual—from time to time you may see a small smoke effect coming from the steam release handle … this is perfectly normal—causes you to thoughtfully rub your chin and think, Well, that sounds pretty good.
(Note to user manual writers: “This is perfectly normal” is right up there with “Do not panic. I repeat—do not panic” for helpful, non-alarmist language)
Before I lost my nerve, I plunked it on the counter and went searching for a recipe. If I was going to use my Instant Pot and live to tell the tale, I was going to do it the LBYM way. In went the pound of dry macaroni I got on sale for $0.49 (yes, I stocked up … and so should you). In went the pound of cheese—shredded—that my mother-in-law gave us before she left for warmer climes (free!). In went a little bit of butter, milk, water, salt, pepper, and some chicken consomme powder (total = $0.43). Five minutes of high-pressure cooking later, voilà! Dinner for a dollar … literally.
Or more accurately, dinner, leftovers, and a show for a dollar. That Instant Pot Quick Release? Here’s an actual image of it happening on our counter:
Interestingly enough, nowhere in the user manual does it mention the gushing column of steam that will draw sons to your Instant Pot like moths to a flame. Look, Mom, cool!
The verdict?
A solid B-. Maybe if I had made something that was more challenging or took longer on the stovetop or that I actually eat, instead of macaroni and cheese, I’d be more impressed. I even put my thumb on the scale by using the free cheese (dinner for a dollar!). Did my kids like it better than the blue box? Hahahaha! As if. Your kids tell you when they like stuff? Sorry—everyone’s a critic here.
I wouldn’t call myself an Instant Pot convert quite yet. I’m more that person that slipped in late—very late—to the church service and stands in the back tapping my toe to the music while everyone else is throwing their hands in the air, singing praise and hallelujah.
Now if you want to talk about our french fry cutter …