Feed My Sheep

I'm 0 and 2 with the missionaries.

Several months ago in Relief Society I signed up to feed the missionaries. We ran into them about a week before said dinner and persuaded them to tell us what they *really* wanted to eat. Turns out they were both huge fish fans, but no one ever made it for them. So I found a dreamy recipe for lemony halibut served over steamed vegetables and rice. I even practiced it one night for me and Josh to make sure it was edible, and it was fantastic! I called the missionaries the afternoon of our dinner date to ask when they were going to come over that evening, and the Elder says to me, "Oh, didn't Elder so-and-so call you? We made other plans to eat dinner with some investigators tonight." Now, even though I was planning a special meal for them, it didn't bother me, because I figured if the missionaries can have dinner with investigators, that's better than dining at our investigator-less table, and I just stuck the two extra halibut fillets in the freezer for another day.

Fast-forward to last Saturday when the missionaries were tracting in our area and we invited them in for a break from the sun, some water, and some snacks. New missionaries, new dinner opportunity, so I offered to prepare dinner for an evening they had available. That available evening ended up being the following Saturday (today). These missionaries had no special requests, so I decided to make my fool-proof cranberry chicken with a green salad and rice pilaf. Everyone loves it.

Everything was set for dinner at 6pm at our house. We confirmed with the missionaries the day before and they had our address and phone number. At 6pm, the rice and salad were done, I had baked brownies, and the chicken had 10 minutes left in the oven - perfect, because the missionaries weren't there yet. At 6:10pm, I put the rice back on a semi-warm burner and covered with a lid to keep in the moisture, and left the chicken in for "five more minutes." At 6:20pm, I had Josh call their house to see if they remembered how to get to Melocactus Court (no answer - good sign, right?), turned off the oven, but left the chicken in it to keep warm, and put the salad dressings back in the fridge. At 6:30pm, I sat down and debated whether or not to keep the chicken in the oven, fearing it would dry out. I decided against it, because I had just baked it in a mixture of whole cranberry sauce, honey, and lemon and orange juices. I figured leaving it simmering in all those juices would keep it moist. At 6:45pm, I pulled the chicken out of the oven and told Josh if they didn't show up by 7pm, we were going to eat without them.

The missionaries arrived for our 6pm dinner appointment at 6:53pm. They offered no excuse nor apology for being late, and I didn't ask where they had been, figuring it was none of my business and hoping they had been connecting spiritually with someone while teaching a discussion. So we sat down to dinner. I dished everyone a chicken breast and cranberry mixture and we all served our own rice and salad. The conversation was good and all was well until I took a bite of chicken and nearly choked on it. The chicken was nearly bone-dry! I was so embarrassed. I looked at Josh and shook my head. We both know how juicy the chicken normally is, so it was a real disappointment to eat it in such terrible condition.

Stupid missionaries. They not only ruined my dinner, but only apologized for arriving late to dinner after I apologized for the chicken. I think the senior companion caught on that the extended oven time is what dried out the chicken.