I love the idea of slow cookers: an appliance making dinner while I am at work. Walking in the door to the wonderful aroma of a home-cooked meal. Knowing that when I get home from work, all I have to do is set the table.
This is the fantasy.
The reality:
Toni puts a frozen roast in the slow cooker on low for 8 hours and leaves for work. Andy gets home to find a large dog's chew toy in the slow cooker with 2 hours left to cook. While Andy is willing to attempt to consume anything Toni fixes, Toni is not willing to shoe leather and orders pizza for them.
Toni tries her favorite soup recipe in the slow cooker. Four hours later, the mulligatawny is lukewarm and the vegetable are only starting to soften. It's crunchy soup for lunch--and not in a good way.
A slow cooker recipe book suggests a chicken and rice dish, and following the directions exactly, Toni puts the rice and chicken in and leaves for work. She is greeted by chicken breasts in rice pudding. She calls it "British Cuisine" and serves it anyway. Desperation is, if not the mother, at least the great-aunt of fiction.
Thinking she has this figured out now, she puts the chicken in the slow cooker but asks Andy to add the rice when he gets home, leaving it two hours to cook before dinner. In a splendid show of nonconformity, this time the rice stays crunchy until 9:00 PM. Toni apologizes for the disparaging remarks she made about the inventor of the crockpot--she realizes he probably does not do things simply to "mess with people's heads."
Toni starts to develop a tick above her left eye every time she sees the works "easy" or "convenient" in reference to the slow cooker. While not ready to admit that she's getting her tail kicked by a kitchen appliance, she is willing to admit that they may need some time apart, and perhaps a little precooking counseling. In the meantime, she intends to see more of the cute little ice cream maker she found in the back cupboard.....