Cooking.
A little something seems to be happening to me that has me marveling at myself. It's been coming on slowly, so I was shocked when I first realized that I've kind of become a good cook. Not a great cook. And I certainly don't bake. But I can cook a meal to general satisfaction. Such a ringing self-endorsement, isn't it?
Okay, okay, some of my attempts haven't exactly gone of swimmingly. See: Punkin Joes. And there was the time that, when making tomato sauce, I thought it would be smart to add cinnamon. Cinnamon, Rebecca? Really? (I was thinking about Cincinnati-style Chili and lost my mind for a moment. Afterwards, we had to have Cincinnati-style Chili to use up that sauce.) Sometimes I still over- or under-flavor something. And, fine. Sometimes I may cook foods that I like but others don't. That's just a difference in personal preference, I like to think. I hope.
But at least 51% of the time (that's a majority, people!), I do a good job. One thing I can do with confidence is roast a chicken. It's no exaggeration to say that it was my roasted chicken and veggies that convinced Patrick that I was the woman he simply must be with until one of us dies and becomes cat food. (Oh, Lizzie-loo, we love you anyway!) (Oh, and I may have lied about that not being an exaggeration.) When our friend requested to know how I made it, I was probably more proud in that moment than I was when I graduated college. No, really. I was elated to be done with college, but I was immensely proud that I cooked something well enough, and that tasted good enough, that someone wanted MY recipe.
Speaking of chicken, I've also been making my own chicken stock. Yup. I'm that person now. (I make my own laundry detergent, too. I'm also that person.) People who cook better than I have long known that using broth in favor of water in soups, stews, heck--even grits, makes a massive difference. I, too, have learned this.
Thereare not are many things that sound more appealing that Green Split Pea soup, but mine is good enough that Patrick requests it on occasion. (As you may guess, I use chicken stock instead of water.) My mashed potatoes are pretty dynomite. Although it's more to do with assembling than anything else, salads are something that I usually knock out of the park. There are a number of dishes that it seems I'm getting better and better at preparing, though I still have some way to go to absolutely terrific.
I didn't intend for this post to be one long pat on my own back (oh, fine, yes I did), but the reason my cooking has improved is because, well, I finally made myself start doing it regularly. No, not every night--I definitely don't enjoy it that much! Patrick and I trade off cooking duties roughly 50/50. But isn't it amazing that when you think, "I sure do wish I were better at x, y, or z," actually taking the trouble to practice, and risking a few failures, drastically improves your skills or abilities?
Wow, can we take a moment? I totally just came up with that concept; I should market it! I'll make millions!
Oh, I've just been told that this idea is as old as dirt. Bummer. I was set to be rich. Maybe I'll apply it to something like writing. Novel concept from the girl writing a tiny and nearly unseen blog, huh?
Okay, okay, some of my attempts haven't exactly gone of swimmingly. See: Punkin Joes. And there was the time that, when making tomato sauce, I thought it would be smart to add cinnamon. Cinnamon, Rebecca? Really? (I was thinking about Cincinnati-style Chili and lost my mind for a moment. Afterwards, we had to have Cincinnati-style Chili to use up that sauce.) Sometimes I still over- or under-flavor something. And, fine. Sometimes I may cook foods that I like but others don't. That's just a difference in personal preference, I like to think. I hope.
But at least 51% of the time (that's a majority, people!), I do a good job. One thing I can do with confidence is roast a chicken. It's no exaggeration to say that it was my roasted chicken and veggies that convinced Patrick that I was the woman he simply must be with until one of us dies and becomes cat food. (Oh, Lizzie-loo, we love you anyway!) (Oh, and I may have lied about that not being an exaggeration.) When our friend requested to know how I made it, I was probably more proud in that moment than I was when I graduated college. No, really. I was elated to be done with college, but I was immensely proud that I cooked something well enough, and that tasted good enough, that someone wanted MY recipe.
Speaking of chicken, I've also been making my own chicken stock. Yup. I'm that person now. (I make my own laundry detergent, too. I'm also that person.) People who cook better than I have long known that using broth in favor of water in soups, stews, heck--even grits, makes a massive difference. I, too, have learned this.
There
I didn't intend for this post to be one long pat on my own back (oh, fine, yes I did), but the reason my cooking has improved is because, well, I finally made myself start doing it regularly. No, not every night--I definitely don't enjoy it that much! Patrick and I trade off cooking duties roughly 50/50. But isn't it amazing that when you think, "I sure do wish I were better at x, y, or z," actually taking the trouble to practice, and risking a few failures, drastically improves your skills or abilities?
Wow, can we take a moment? I totally just came up with that concept; I should market it! I'll make millions!
Oh, I've just been told that this idea is as old as dirt. Bummer. I was set to be rich. Maybe I'll apply it to something like writing. Novel concept from the girl writing a tiny and nearly unseen blog, huh?
Ok, I want details on this homemade laundry detergent. What's in it? Cinnamon?
ReplyDeleteNo cinnamon or pumpkin pie spices. (Lavender oil would be divine, though!) I use a mixture of Borax, A&H Washing Soda, grated Fels-Naptha soap, and I've lately started using Oxi-Clean in it, too. I've been doing it for probably 4 or 5 years, now, and Patrick hasn't complained yet!
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