Many of my friends have food blogs. And they seem to rejoice in the act (art?) of cooking. Me? I rejoice in drinking wine while Mike cooks.
I do not like to cook. I love to bake…but I don’t like to eat what I bake. I always end up giving it away. But I don’t like to cook. And here’s why:
I find it stressful. Incredibly stressful. Especially if you’re cooking more than one thing at a time. I respect all those who can move gracefully around a kitchen and nothing burns or falls apart or comes out crappy. MOM. Anyway, it’s stressful. It’s a lot of running about, missing ingredients, spilling stuff on the counter, tasting as you go.
Who cares about presentation? The point of food is to keep you alive. Yes, I want it to taste good. But these people who fret over presentation? I just don’t get it. Garnish or not, it’s going to taste the same. And I just don’t have time to stress over how it looks. Slop it on the plate and eat it, I guess. You’re just going to ruin it once you stick your fork in it anyway.
It’s a waste of money. For one person, that is. I’m not about to buy a bunch of raw ingredients (hamburger, flour, bread crumbs, butter by the pound, blah blah blah) to cook for myself. It will go to waste. I will never use it all. And I’ll be pissed when I have to throw it away. Hence–perfectly portioned pre-made meals. Or individually wrapped slices of cheese and so forth. Stuff I don’t need to cook, but that will change drastically if I heat it up or something.
I just don’t like to eat. If I could get away with not eating, I would. I’ve watched people make love to their hamburgers with their lips. And I’ve watched my brother intricately put together a sandwich, close his mouth, and enjoy the mixture of flavors. I’ve watched Mike run around the kitchen like Emeril, never looking happier, and then sit down and enjoy the fruits of his labor. But not me. I don’t get it. I don’t like it.
It’s no fun to cook unless you’re cooking for someone. I know what you’re saying. This chick wants to be a family woman (not necessarily a housewife, as working has proven to be quite a fun adventure) and she doesn’t know how to cook! How will she feed her children? Her husband? Well let me tell you this. Having these things completely eliminates all of the above reasons for which I hate cooking. It wouldn’t be as stressful if I had a reason to cook–like sustaining my family. And presentation…well, I still don’t care about that. The waste of money? Buying raw items to feed four people would certainly ensure that they don’t go to waste, especially if I’m packing lunches for my man to take to work. Not liking to eat? I hope that someday I can learn to enjoy eating. It’s a ways off, though.
On that note, good day.