The Pressure is Off: Kambrook Pressure Cooker Experience

A month or so back, at a Kids Business Bloggers Brunch I won a Kambrook Pressure Cooker.

Pretty, isn’t it?

Oh, how excited I was. I do believe I even squealed and jumped up and down when my name was called.

I cradled it when I arrived home, terribly excited, showed the family, who couldn’t be more disinterested, and pulled it out of the box, fighting off the hands that were trying to take the box before I’d checked it was empty, so they could use it for a LEGO Star Wars base or something.

After my excited high, I came down with a considerable thump when it suddenly occurred to me; my cooking is not so fabulous and I actually have NO idea what to do with a pressure cooker.

o.O

I spent the evening querying Grumpy Pants, who knows things about these things, reading the recipe book that came with it and coming to the conclusion that yep, I CAN do this!

Over the last few weeks, I’ve been playing with a few recipes, making up quite a few of my own (because I do that), causing Grumpy Pants to wander off, shaking his head, then having to better me the following night when my random selection of ingredients actually tastes ok and is eaten by the family.

I’ve tried the Beef Stew, Meatballs, Peanut Butter Chicken (which is technically Satay Beef – but the kids eat Peanut Butter Chicken, so who am I to argue?), Butter Chicken (have had many requests for this one again) and several beef based concoctions of my own that I call I Dunno, Some Beef Thing I Don’t Know The Name Of when the kids ask “What’s for dinner?”

What I really wanted a pressure cooker for was Wednesday Night Hell and the occasional Thursday Night Double Hell.

These nights (this term at least – last term it was Monday Nights, but I had an eleven year old to do my bidding then) we have Stuff on after school, at a time that would usually be spent preparing, cooking and eating dinner.

As a result, we’re stuffing snacks into faces at 4.30p.m. as we run out the door, or, if I’m with it enough, dinner, then stuffing crap into faces when we arrive home, or I’m

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