I'm a bit of a baker, of sorts. I find it relaxing, and a great distraction from the everyday stress that life brings. It is also a great cure for living in the boondocks - when there's nothing to do (and there's always nothing to do), bake.
However, I've never been much good at cooking. Some people scoff at that statement, but I can assure you that there is a HUGE difference between baking and cooking.
Most of the food I eat comes in the form of things that don't require actual cooking. Salad: Put raw veges in a bowl and grab a fork. Simple. Or I opt for something slightly more complex... Soup for One: Open can, pour contents into bowl, microwave on high for two minutes, grab spoon. Almost simple.
Any time that I've attempted to cook an actual meal, something has usually gone horribly wrong. I've perfected the art of setting tea towels on fire. I'm highly skilled in the area of 'Burnt on the outside, frozen in the middle...". I've even shattered a microwave-safe plate, microwaving something (which also killed my microwave completely). There is a photo album on my facebook page that is devoted entirely to cooking related burns and cuts that I've given myself. My last flatmate banned me from using the oven unless she was home to supervise.
I blame this largely on my mother (as is usually the case with any child). Though a general lack of funds also factors in as well. My cupboards and fridge/freezer usually contain coffee beans, tea bags, a tray of eggs, milk, several boxes of hashbrowns, and a bag of frozen peas. The peas are generally more of an ice pack, rather than something I eat. I fall down a lot.
When I was young, my mother didn't teach me the art of cooking for one. I could make a roast that would feed six, but I still have no idea how to produce mince on toast. Not that I ever eat mince outside of the realm of Nachos, but that's beside the point. Basic cooking skills elude me.
For the last year, cooking duties have fallen on me. Breakfast and lunch requires all in the household to fend for themselves, however every night I am required to produce a meal for all of us. This has meant that for the majority of the last year, evening meals have consisted of either salad or mini roasties, and some sort of grilled meat. Chicken pieces and salad. Lamb chops and mini roasties. Salad and fish. Steak and salad. Steak and mini roasties... You get the idea. A couple of weeks ago, my mother flipped out and had a melt down. She couldn't take any more salad. I was firmly in that camp, right by her side. We binged on cheese on toast. And then she purchased some cook books.
I own countless cookbooks. I love cookbooks. I flip through them, wondering what each meal tastes like, drooling over the pictures of food like they're Sean Bean shirtless. Then I put them in a kitchen draw, and heat up a can of soup.
Not this time though. This time, with a fridge and pantry full of ingredients I have been assigned the task of cooking some actual meals. And I have! I've even eaten eggplant for the first time in memory. What's more amazing, is that I've actually enjoyed cooking. And people are not dying mysteriously in the night, or throwing up with food poisoning. I haven't set any tea towels on fire (though I suspect this is because my mother's kitchen has a ceramic hobb, making fire almost impossible to achieve.). I've made Carbonara from scratch. I've made basic ratatouille. People are looking forward to tea time. So naturally we had lamb chops and salad last night...
Ok, so the cooking buzz isn't a permanent change - one must never forget their Canned Soup roots. However tonight I shall attempt to use puff pastry - pre-rolled sheets of course, lets not go overboard here by making our own.
Spinach and Ricotta Quiche. Another bunch of firsts for me - I've never had ricotta cheese (as far as I know), and I've never made a quiche. I'm not sure what I'll serve it with, probably some salad on the side...
;-)
