As my kids get older, the amount of time I have to cook dinner seems to be less and less. Ok, who am I kidding. It doesn’t seem to be less. It actually is less. A whole lot less. Between Spanish classes, Y-Guides and Faith formation, our afternoons are filled with the kids and me shuttling around in the car, racing to make the next destination on time. Dinner is a far thought in the back of my mind.
I remember the days when I had all afternoon to think about and prepare a tasty meal. I would plan and orchestrate without interruption and the result was usually a masterpiece fit for a king (or at least a family of five). Today I’m lucky if I walk in the door at 5pm and have even had the foresight to pull out a package of meat for that night’s meal. Enter in my trusty slow cooker.
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