For under twenty bucks, this instant-read thermometer promised to solve all of my problems. You see, my husband cares about whether his food is cooked through. He cares a lot. (I mean, I do, too—I don’t eat raw chicken or anything.) But too many times, his cute face was two inches from his plate, asking, “Is this done?” How could I prove to him that we wouldn’t die of E. coli or salmonella?
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