Overcooked

On some days, I wonder why some things even exist. Today, the word "overcooked" is on the chopping block.

Prior to the wedding, my thoughtful friends and relatives advised me that I should turn to pasta when all else fails. However, these semi-kind friends and relatives forgot to tell me that when pasta is overcooked, everyone and everything becomes unhappy.

My husband becomes unhappy. I become unhappy. The pot I cooked my pasta in is unhappy. My clogged strainer becomes unhappy. I become even more unhappy because I have to clean the said pot and clogged strainer.

These so-called friends and relatives also forgot to mention a crucial detail: That "always firm pasta" exists. One afternoon, my mother finally told me about this magical pasta that doesn't get mushy--even when overcooked! Of course, I first had to serve her and the rest of my family an extremely, embarrassingly mushy pasta dish for her to remember to mention it to me.

I am happy to say that since that fateful day, my battle with overcooked noodles has been won. Unfortunately, my battle with meat is a completely different story.

I am annoyingly careful of the fact that I don't serve my husband dishes with uncooked meat. Every now and then, I grab a knife and fork and see if the meat is no longer bloody and if it is ready to be deemed edible.

My problem is this: In my exaggerated efforts to ensure that my meat is cooked, I always manage to cook it a little too long. Why is this? Is it because when I bite into the slightly rubbery meat, I think that it is still raw when it is actually already done? Is it because after my nth attempt at checking the meat, I decide to keep it on the stove for just "a little while longer?"

Is it possible to purchase magical meat that promises to "always stay tender and perfectly cooked?" If so, I'd really love it if someone would tell me.