Julia Child, I am not

My hypothetical children better not be picky eaters.

Or anyone I ever have to cook for, for that matter.

Because, quite frankly, I’m no Rachael Ray.

I have a few simple dishes that I have perfected. Including, but not limited to, Kraft Mac & Cheese, chicken cutlets, rice with black beans and corn, pierogis (Frozen ones. Not homemade. Let’s get serious.), rice with creamed spinach, turkey sausage (like Italian sausages but with turkey meat), Turkeyburger Helper and pasta.

Okay, maybe limited to. I can’t really think of anything else I can make that isn’t a TV dinner or freezer-to-microwave meal. Or isn’t instant mashed potatoes. Because I’m pretty sure my two year old Goddaughter could make instant mashed potatoes if letting a toddler near a stove wasn’t the worst idea ever.

I mean, I can follow recipes. I’m not an idiot. But following recipes involves having ingredients. Ingredients that you will never need until you make that one recipe again. But that will go bad before you ever finish all the leftovers and feel like making it again.  And leftovers there shall be.  Because even if you have one of those meals-for-one cookbooks (And I mean, who does? That’s only the most depressing thing to buy in a bookstore…), it’s almost impossible to buy most ingredients in such small quantities.

And it’s hard enough to cook one thing at a time, a lot of recipes require you to be doing like 13 things at once! Who can keep track of or time all that correctly?! Not I!

I even messed up my pasta last night! I have mastered the art of creating my own pasta seasoning that’s not a jarred sauce because I was spoiled and raised on my Italian grandfather’s homemade sauce and everything else tastes like dirty water to me.  So instead, I throw some olive oil, butter, salt and garlic powder in.  No measurements, just dashing of this and splashes of that.  Sometimes I throw random other crap in  there if the mood so fits. I sprinkle grated cheese on top and am very proud of my Martha Stewart-y ways.

Last night, however, I was trying to rush and finish before Pretty Little Liars started and opened the wrong end of the garlic powder and poured instead of sprinkled.  Suddenly there were lumps of garlic in my pasta.

I screwed up PASTA. The Italian half of me writhed in disappointment.

I was beyond upset. It ended up being edible and actually pretty good besides the chunks of burning, but those were mostly big enough to pick out.  So it wasn’t the end of the world.

But it was annoying.

And reminded me that I either need to move in with a chef or learn how to cook in the next few years, lest aforementioned hypothetical children starve to death.


~ by Valerie Anne on 01/11/2011.

2 Responses to “Julia Child, I am not”

  1. Ok, now you’re in my head about 2 years ago. I despised cooking, and really anything domesticated. I kind of like it now…and cooking for one if great because you can make whatever the hell you want without worrying if someone is gonna like it, then if you mess up you don’t care. Although Mark left for training today and what am I cooking? Mac and Cheese 🙂 Maybe I’ll cook tomorrow…anyway I never in a million years thought I’d like cooking, but if you want to try some recipes I have some pretty good easy ones. (Nothing wrong with Mac and Cheese though!!)

    • It’s not even that I don’t LIKE cooking, I’m just not particularly good at it.

      Though I did make Turkeyburger Helper last night without any major catastrophes. I didn’t even set off the smoke alarm, which I usually manage to do even when making eggs.

      I’m always open to good easy recipes, though!! 🙂

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