Look, I’m just going to be real with you guys, I don’t find any pleasure in cooking. I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been excited to make something. Cooking to me is a chore and whoever coined the phrase, “a woman’s place is in the kitchen,” should go down in history as one of the worst humans on Earth.
I just don’t see how making something, only for it to be gone a short time later is rewarding. When I make shit, I want to see the fruits of my labor. As some of you know, I’m a pretty good seamstress and there’s satisfaction when I’ve completed a skirt or a drape. I have something to show for it.
And during that rare moment I am excited to make something, I’m usually taken aback by the cost of the stuff and the lack of availability. Here’s usually what the recipe looks like:
- Angus steak from a grass-fed albino horse $23.99 a pound
- 1/8 tablespoon of daisy powder $6.99 a jar
- 3 onions diced by hand $1 a pound
- 1/4 cup Canadian Worcestershire Sauce (found only at Whole Foods) $9
Obviously the above recipe is fictitious, so please don’t go out and look for Canadian Worcestershire Sauce. But seriously, that’s what it feels like recipes call for; a tablespoon of something you’ll never use for the rest of your life. Because of this, I substitute shit all the time.
My life of subbing ingredients in recipes, then ruining the recipe, started at a very young age. I can remember my first experience when my best friend and I decided we were going to make pizza. It’s not lost on me that my father owned an Italian restaurant for 25 years, known for his pizza. Here’s the ingredients for our “pizza”:
- Dough (we actually had real dough. Unfortunately, that would be the most pizza part of this concoction)
- Ketchup (this was supposed to be the pizza sauce. It was red so we deduced it was an appropriate substitute)
- Kraft American cheese slices sliced up into small pieces (this represented “shredded” provolone cheese)
- The meat of a White Castle burger (this acted as the pepperoni. If you’ve never had a White Castle, allow me to spare you the diarrhea and say, don’t eat them. Ever.)
So far this week, I’ve made beef lo mein, border shrimp with cilantro rice and all-American meatloaf. I’m sick as fuck of cooking and prepared to serve Lunchables for tomorrow’s dinner. I literally can’t make another meal. Call me a cry baby but I work 8 hours a day, have a 1.5 hour commute round trip, shuttled kids back and forth to soccer practice daily, made lunches and folded laundry. So excu-se-moi if I’m not in the mood to cook a 3-course meal tomorrow.
So yeah, there isn’t a plot to this post. Just that I hate to cook and I don’t intend to cook tomorrow. Thank you very much and good night Cleveland.