Week 1 of 30-day Crock-Pot mission: Single ladies and lazy carrots

Watching the film "Julie & Julia" almost made me want to cook. Almost. I confess I went to the theater with my girlfriends because I love New York and I adore eating, but I don't enjoy food preparation.

As a single woman, cooking for one just never seems worth it. Sure, I can make a few things, such as pasta, grilled cheese, and maybe the occasional soup. I can even turn out a mean lasagna. Yet for the most part, I'd rather dig into cereal than soil pots and pans for dining el solo.

However, the romanticism of "Julie & Julia" was infectious and lit a tiny pilot light in my non-cooking soul. The flame grew stronger when an editor brought in leftovers from a tasty pot roast. My destiny became clear: I, too, should embark on a culinary project with the hope to transform into a kitchen-loving Katie. But instead of Julia Child's "Mastering the Art of French Cooking," I picked something a little more my speed: the newly released "Slow Cooker: The Best Cookbook Ever with More Than 400 Easy-to-Make Recipes" by Dianne Phillips. After all, I may like classical music, have a standard poodle and worry about guests spilling red wine on my favorite chairs, but my palate isn't so particular. I'll eat most anything, and these recipes look downright delish even if "simple" in preparation.

Fellow AJC staffer Elissa Eubanks is joining me on this journey. For 30 days, we will alternate slow cooking entrees, side dishes and the occasional dessert. Because we will likely eat a third of what we make each day, our plan is to freeze the leftovers and have meals to last us through the winter -- what we hope is a major cost saving for our meager wallets. We envision transforming into Betty Crock-Pots in the next month -- into real girls who shop for the best savings, eat their vegetables and know how to feed a future family.

Our first misstep in this carefully planned project? DeKalb Farmers Market at noon on a Sunday. Instantly, we transformed from happy girls into pinballs in a pinball machine. Shoulder to shoulder, cart to cart, we were thrown from one end of an aisle to the other by what seemed like the world's most aggressive shoppers. Hysteria ensued: no dried Mission figs! What do shallots look like? Must everything be organic? Is canola the same as vegetable oil?

I even got hazed in the vegetable aisle. Grabbing a bag of baby carrots, a man scoffed at me and said: "Those are carrots for lazy people."

If by lazy he meant overwhelmed 20-something singles attempting to teach themselves to like cooking, then yes. Lazy. Horrendously lazy ladies we must be!

On second thought, he might be right. Picking out the recipes, we steered clear of many that involve browning or pre-cooking items before placing in the slow cooker. I just want to throw a hunk of meat and whole vegetables in a pot and later discover rack of lamb, so that kind of prep seems to defeat the purpose.

Upon our return from the Super Bowl of grocery shopping last Sunday, I faced my second fear: my Cuisinart slow cooker.

I purchased this massive 6.5 quart machine a year ago and have only used it once, when I made pot roast. Except, dear readers, I made dry roast and ruined a New Year's Eve meal. (To my credit, I resourcefully turned it into a somewhat edible beef stew; only took a day for the toughened dry meat to become chewable.)

With renewed confidence, I began my slow cooking sojourn with comfort food -- chicken pot pie. I boiled and shredded the chicken. Placed cubed Yukon gold potatoes and chopped (lazy) carrots with thyme into the cooker, later adding peas and corn and a thickening paste made of butter and flour. I realized the only time I peel potatoes is when I'm home for the holidays. I also realized I need to ask Santa for a decent paring knife.

The dish was tasty, but something was missing: the pie. Yes, the fatal flaw with this recipe is it comes with no flaky crust and one is advised to serve over biscuits or potatoes. I later wondered if I could somehow figure out how to make dumplings within the recipe, but making those additional items was outside my patience parameters. Elissa and I ate it alone, feeling as though the dish was a half-realized dream at best.