Who wants seconds?

Joe told me he loved chicken Marsala, so like a good wife (haha), I made it. I was so excited because it turned out perfectly. I even bought the more expensive Marsala wine in an effort to make it above the norm. After we were finished eating, I said that it was probably the best thing I've ever made. He said he thought chicken Marsala was something else, and that this tasted like shortbread cookies. Oh. Not exactly what I had hoped he'd say. He tried to make me feel better by saying the chicken and pasta were cooked perfectly but he thought Marsala tasted beefy and this didn't. His suggestion was that, "Next time you should make breaded chicken with beefy gravy." It would probably make me feel worse, but this is coming from the same guy who thought matzo ball soup was soup with balls of mozzarella cheese. Or that Nutella and Vegemite were the same thing. From now on, I think I'm going to have to clarify what I'm making for dinner, just in case he asks for piccata and expects pickles.