Author’s note: Post contains picture of a bloody finger but hockey is a brutal sport. What you gonna do?

Guys don’t cook for other guys. The only reason most men even know how to cook anything at all is to impress women. The only reason most men do anything at all is to try to impress women. If I didn’t want to impress women I wouldn’t shower, work out or try to dress well. Hell, I barely even do those things now.

Barbecues don’t count. Those are mostly about drinking Keystone Light and playing games with disturbing names like Cornhole and Hillbilly Golf, and not about the quality of the food. After all, if you’re drinking Keystone Light, you really don’t care if something tastes good or not.

What I’m saying is that 26-year old guys don’t invite their bros over to watch the hockey game, have a few beers and enjoy a nice home cooked meal prepared with love. Until now.

The game? St. Louis Blues versus Chicago Blackhawks. Good versus evil. Jedi versus Sith. Craig versus Parsley.

The meal? Easy Skillet-Braised Chicken with Mushrooms and Bacon (Page 252) and Seared Brussels Sprouts with Bacon (Page 433).

Tonight on Craig Cooks Crap, it’s Man versus Meal in the Wednesday Night Rivalry matchup of the season.

Let’s check out tonight’s starting line up.

Now, down to center ice to drop the puck.

First Period.
The game has gotten off to a painfully slow start behind a man at the grocery store who is committed to making six separate purchases, and paying for each of them via different method. I don’t know much about personal finance, but I know that this guy is an ass. I’m sure there’s a reason for his mad-scientist money approach of using checks, debit cards, vouchers and cash to pick up some apple sauce, but all it did was get me ready to drop the gloves early in the first.

Luckily, the line judge (cashier) can sense my rage and keeps the game under control with a simple apology, saving me from having to spend five minutes in the penalty box for fighting and probably facing an assault charge.

THE GROCERY STORE SCORES FIRST TO TAKE THE EARLY LEAD!

I have to go back to the damn grocery store because I forgot that in order to make Easy Skillet-Braised Chicken with Mushrooms and Bacon and Seared Brussel Sprouts with Bacon you really need to make sure you have…oh I don’t know, maybe goddamn bacon! Combine that with a ten-minute wait to make a left turn off my street and the fact that the real hockey game got underway before I’d even sliced a shallot and I think it’s fair to say that Meal has taken an early lead over Man.

It may be 1-0, but Man is making a mighty comeback in the end of the first. For the first time in two weeks I have completed my entire prep work without sustaining any injuries. The team is going to need to stay healthy for us to have any shot at making the playoffs (cooking Easter Dinner). We’re counting that as a goal for Man, and going into end of the first all tied up at one.

First Period Intermission.
Meal – 1
Goals: Grocery Store Rage (1)
Man – 1
Goals: Not Cutting My Finger Off (1)

The first intermission is highlighted by the arrival of my two alternate captain (bros, bruh) and an Urban Chestnut STLIPA. If I were a betting man, I’d bet real hockey players have a drink during the intermission too. How else could you deal with the fact that you probably look like this?

Second Period.
The pace has picked up.

Pan too small. Two chickens in. One left out in the cold. Three minutes of hockey watching. Flipped first two chickens. Four minutes of hockey watching. Why is there so much smoke? I act like the cloud is a smoke machine during player introductions and I’m taking the ice. Why is sizzling chicken so loud? I mentally reframe the sound of hot popping grease as a screaming crowd. Two chickens out. Third chicken in. Three minutes of hockey watching. The Blackhawks scored and the refs blew a call. Chicken rage-flipped. Four minutes of hockey watching. The Blues took a bad penalty. Chicken out. Bacon in. Bacon burnt.

Put a goal on the board for Meal.

The bacon touched the pan and caught fire like the Internet after Kanye West drops another substandard album, or his wife drops another substandard nude. Maybe it’s time to turn down the offensive heat, and play a little more defense.

I focus on the fundamentals for the second bacon attempt. Fundamentals like don’t burn the damn bacon. Mushrooms, shallots and everything else go in the pan. Like all great hockey players, I keep my stick (spoon) on the ice (pan) and my skates moving (stirring), managing to not catch anything else on fire.

Chicken stock and wine complete the braising concoction. The chickens get a soak like a defenseman in the ice bath after the whistle blows. The whole thing hits the oven for the second intermission.

Second Period Intermission.
Meal – 2
Goals: Grocery Store (1) Bacon Burnt Like Ryan Reaves by Officiating (1)
Man – 1
Goals: Prep Skills (1)

Politics are discussed in the locker room over drinks. Surprising everyone, we don’t solve global warming, the shrinking middle class, the second amendment or police brutality with our heated discussion.

Third Period.
Like the Blues who currently trail 1-0, we need a late-game rally if we we’re going to take this game home. Unlikely heroes show up on great teams when you least expect them. Alternate Captain, and now honorary sous chef, Bryan came off the bench and offered to handle the Brussels sprouts prep while I drank beer and watched the game. He did admirably for a man so incompetent he once tried to order a Shamrock Shake at a Lee’s Famous Fried Chicken. Man scores to tie the game at two goals apiece!

 

More bacon is cooked and the Brussels sprouts are invited to the bacon party, even though hockey night is totally a sausage fest.

The weird green balls don’t seem like they’re cooking properly in just the bacon grease, so I drown them in vegetable oil and hope for the best. Sometimes when the game is tied this late, you have to get creative.

Somehow, the alien-testicle vegetables turn out really well. I’m counting that as a goal for the good guys. Man takes a 3-2 lead early in the third. The Blues have scored twice to take the lead, and the chicken comes out of the oven. I’m feeling confident—too confident.

As a Blues fan I should know better, about my own cooking abilities and a hockey team with more failures than an Insane Clown Posse concert. Just when you think everything is in good shape, that’s when it all goes to shit and people get hurt. Really, really hurt.

I remove the chicken from a pan that’s been in the oven for 45 minutes and take the Brussels sprouts off the burner. I mix in the heavy cream with the chicken/wine/mushroom juices and disaster strikes for the home team. In order to move the molten-pan to the burner, I grab it and leave the fingerprints from my left hand stuck to the handle as my skin begins to melt like nacho cheese.

Meal scores. In a big, bad and burny way. I scream, curse and go to the bench to ice down my upper body injury.

The game is tied and my skin is turning the color of those ugly Chicago Blackhawks jerseys.

Hockey-player mentality shows up. You play through the pain. Stirring the heavy cream into the sauce, I call over my alternate captain to assess the damage as I start to plate the food.

My hand is so burnt I’m bleeding. I didn’t even know that could happen. Wait a minute. My left hand isn’t bleeding. Where is all the blood coming from? Son of a bitch. The back of my right hand is covered in blood and I have absolutely no idea how or why. Good thing I’m not European Royalty in the 19^th century, because my general clumsiness and vulnerability to injury would have killed me from blood loss a long time ago.

That’s definitely another goal for Meal. 4-3 and the bad guys have the lead late. I’ve blown this game, and the Blues have done the exact same thing with 1:17 left. Everything has gone wrong.

I only have one chance to score and take it to overtime. Grin, bear it and plate this up pretty enough to make Maneet Chauhan weep.

This bitch is tied. We’re going to overtime.

Meal – 4
Goals: Grocery Store (1) Burnt Bacon (1) Hand-fire (1) Red Wedding (1)
Man – 4
Goals: Prep Skills (1) Alternate Captain (1) Alien Testicles (1) Plating Like A Playa (1)

Overtime
I’m sidelined in overtime. Both of my hands are falling off and I can’t focus on anything, even eating. I defer to my alternate captains for a final review.

“I can’t believe I ate the whole thing. The part of the meal I enjoyed most was how injured Craig got while preparing it, that’s what it’s really about.” – Alternate Captain Bryan

“Wait, there’s how much blood in this? If I had to describe the meal in three words they would be: Damn. Good. Chicken.” – Alternate Captain Bill

PUT IT ON THE BOARD! GOOD GUYS WIN. BAD GUYS LOSE. SUCK IT THE FOOD LAB. YOU DON’T COME INTO MY HOUSE AND TRY TO TAKE DOWN A TEAM ON A HOT STREAK.

The average hockey game lasts around two hours and 14 minutes. Making Easy Skillet-Braised Chicken with Mushrooms and Bacon and Seared Brussels Sprouts with Bacon takes even longer when Craig’s team captain.

The Blues even pulled it out in a shootout, so the burning sensation in my left hand and the second gash in two weeks to my right middle finger seem worth it. I feel wonderful. I didn’t expect the praise of my friends to feel this good. I’m in excruciating pain, yet sit here a glorious victor.

This must be what it feels like to win Lord Stanley’s Cup. Unfortunately, I’m a Blues fan, so I’ll probably never know.

Recipe: Can’t Actively Rate Due to Pain

Did I Do the Dishes? No. It’s getting disgusting in here.