Here we go, week four.

Since I have been doing a lot of pasta and not a lot of it was working out for me, I decided to switch gears a little. A lot, actually. This week, I set out to not entirely ruin some Sesame Chicken.

I read through the recipe multiple times before venturing into the local grocery store; I was determined to make this one kind of okay. The list of ingredients was long:

• 1 ½ cups quick cooking white rice ($2.44)
• 1 ¾ tsp kosher salt, divided ($0.10)
• 8 cups broccoli florets ($2.34)
• 6 tbsp cornstarch ($0.78)
• ½ tsp freshly ground black pepper ($0.12)
• 2 lbs boneless, skinless chicken breasts; trimmed, pounded, dried; cut into 1 ½ in chunks ($6.79)
• 4 tbsp vegetable oil, divided ($0.98)
• 5 tbsp honey ($3.12)
  4 tbsp low-sodium soy sauce ($1.32)
• 3 tbsp rice wine vinegar ($1.68)
• 1 tbsp Sriracha ($1.76)
• 1 large clove garlic, finely grated ($0.72)
• 1 tsp ginger, finely grated ($0.44)
• 1 ½ tsp toasted sesame oil ($7.88)
• 2 tbsp toasted sesame seeds, divided ($3.97)
• 2 scallions, thinly sliced ($0.92)

Remember when I thought breadcrumbs would be with the bread? Yeah, this shopping trip took a while. Don’t fret, though; I remembered to get instant rice this time (probably because the recipe specifically called for it, but it still happened, so, HA), but it wasn’t without regret.

You see, the regular rice is up front with you. Straightforward. Boil some water, put the rice in, wait. Instant rice likes to play with your head. It says to put equal parts rice and water, but who looks at two cups of water in a pot and thinks, “yeah that looks like enough to boil some rice”????? Definitely not me. That sentence did not enter my mind.

More specifically, the sentence that did enter my mind was, “I’m calling your bluff, rice box.”

I proceeded to add a lot more water than I needed and ended up with a lot more rice than I needed—which I’m not complaining about.

Next, I realized that I don’t know what it means to trim a chicken. Apparently it’s something that would’ve helped my chicken parmesan actually cook. It’s when you cut off all the fat, bloody spots, and tendons from the chicken. I was kind of already doing it but not as in depth as I should’ve been.

As I stood there massacring this chicken so that it would cook properly, I’m going to be honest, I gagged a little. I don’t know if you’ve ever torn apart a chicken breast, but this life is not for me. There’s a chance I was going a little overboard taking everything off of it, but still. Gross.

For this recipe, I decided to try and prepare myself before I actually started cooking—for once. So I went ahead and chopped/sliced everything, including the garlic. I’m starting to think my nemesis the Onion* is angry that we have not had a rematch since my venture into the land of Gallo Pinto because this garlic STUNG. It was like I was looking at a reincarnation—nay, a horcrux—of the one food that has managed to make me cry like a four-year-old who just dropped her ice cream cone.

Don’t worry, onions. We shall meet again; I have no doubt.

I then moved back to the chicken to cut it into bite-sized pieces. I almost cut my thumb into a bite-sized piece as well. Yummy. Thank the thumb protecting heavens for my fingernail because that thing saved my life.

Speaking of saving lives…

I know we joke about me burning down the building in which I “cook,” but now it’s too real. So I was frying the chicken...well...flame + pan = very, very hot vegetable oil. I wasn’t sure what to do with the oil once I was finished cooking and had iced my face (burn counter: 1) so I walked outside and poured it right next to the building, out of the way of anything and in an area where it would do minimal damage.

But, again, my common sense seems to have been on vacation because I dumped scolding hot oil onto dry pine straw less than one inch away from the side of the building.

Don’t worry, I immediately recognized my (possibly fatal) mistake and poured an excess of water over it. We’re all alive. The building is still standing. S’all good, man.

I took a minute to slow my heart rate and moved on to mixing the sauce. I put the honey, vinegar, sesame oil, Sriracha, sesame seeds, garlic, ginger, soy sauce, salt, and pepper into a bowl.

I guess I was still a little frazzled from the great oil spill of 2017 because I measured everything that was supposed to be in tablespoons, in teaspoons instead. I then had to estimate how much of each I’d put into the bowl already so I could compensate for the rest, and y’all know how I am with math…so I ended up just dumping a lot more of everything in there and hoping for the best.

Turns out “the best” was pretty good! This is by far my most successful meal yet, barring a bloody thumbnail. The sauce was flavored nicely, the broccoli was soft, and—yes—the chicken was cooked all the way through. On my first try, too!

No lie, y’all. Grade: A-

The minus is for almost burning down the living space of many college students. I have yet to earn back my points but I’m optimistic.

Just remember: When in doubt, your thumb is too close to the knife.

—The Unseasoned Gourmet

PS: I know this is a little over $20, but it's a small extra price to pay to have some edible food for once.

*The vegetable (root?), not the satirical online magazine. Much respect for the satirical online magazine.