Category Archives: Cooking

01/30/12

{365.30} I Experience an Epiphany in My Kitchen

Today, I experienced an epiphany: I like to cook. No, I seriously like to cook. In fact, I am going to call it an epiphaneous day (watch me make up words to suit my own purposes) because this was really a crazy realization for me. It should probably get posted to my Facebook timeline under Life Event, that’s how drastic it is. Even now, as I sit on the couch in my bathrobe and pajamas writing this blog entry, I’m still rather in disbelief. I mean, seriously? ME?? REALIZE THAT I LOVE COOKING????? Yes, that’s right, similar to the entry in which I declared I would be okay with teaching math, I am now declaring that I actually enjoy cooking. If you need help scraping your jaw off the floor, good luck because I’m still working on mine. And then I’ll have to drive 5 hours and help my mom with hers. I am totally the last person I, or anyone close to me, would expect to cook something more complicated than mac and cheese from a box. (Or my perennial favorite, Instant Ramen.)

Well, they do keep saying the world’s going to end in 2012.

The math entry came with a disclaimer, so here’s the cooking-related one: I will most likely never become some kind of gourmet chef. For one thing, for me to become a gourmet chef I’d probably need to branch out beyond my current favorite foods list of Cuisine Typically Loved By Seven-Year-Olds. But honestly, I’m just impressed that I’m interested. Both of my parents are amazing cooks, and when I was growing up, they tried on many occasions to interest me in what they were doing in the kitchen. Did I care? Nope. Did I weep and bemoan my fate when their delicious dinners were swept out of my reach? Ugh, yes. I went from eating out one night a week on Fridays with my family, to eating out all the time because David and I had no idea how to make anything other than spaghetti. Fast food is not only terrible for you, but also very, very tiresome after a while. And when we weren’t eating out, we were eating random junk from the pantry. I’m pretty sure David ate hot dogs every day for several days at a time. In short, things were getting desperate and we needed to grow up and eat (real food) at home like normal people.

But there were other reasons for this sudden surge of interest in cooking:

1) I’m currently unemployed.

So really, there’s no excuse for me to put off learning how to cook. I have nothing better to do. Well, yes, I do write and try to keep the house neat and all that other stuff. I fill out job applications, work on red tape for certification, read and re-read tons of books, take our hyperactive terrier outdoors so he can sniff every single shrub in our apartment complex, et al etc. But that’s not the same as a job, which means I have time to learn right now that I might not have later.

2) My husband needs to be fed.

The hot dog marathon was nothing short of alarming. Not only that, it was a total cry for help. You know what else was a cry for help? Me eating grape jelly on toast like EVERY DAY OF MY LIFE because we had nothing meal-worthy to eat and didn’t want to spend money on yet another fast food dinner. The madness had to end, people.

3) Cooking makes me feel strangely fulfilled.

It really does. I feel better about myself because I put forth the effort to get ingredients together, research recipes, and try new things. David probably enjoys many an inward laugh while watching me standing over my stove, exclaiming something like, “OMG I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT WORKED!” or “WOW IT ACTUALLY LOOKS PRETTY LEGIT!” But the best feeling is having my food appreciated. I get so excited about David liking my cooking that I forget to eat what’s on my plate — true story. I already eat super slow, but staring with wide-eyed anticipation as he takes his first bite distracts me to the point that I mostly end up eating vicariously. LOL.

You may be wondering why it took me so long to figure all this out. Well, I thought about this earlier, and I’ve come to the conclusion that I ran away from my own kitchen because it intimidated me. This is definitely not the first time I’ve ventured into the world of cooking. All the other times, I’d read cookbooks and Google recipes, only to give up before I’d gotten very far because everything seemed like it was going to be so hard to accomplish. And there was, of course, the fear of every control freak in the world: what if I messed up?? What if I proved to be disastrous at making meals?? What if I totally sucked at cooking?? That alone was enough to frighten me away from trying.

The difference this time is that I’ve learned what works for me. I like recipes with very few ingredients, simple recipes that don’t require much culinary craziness. I like recipes that save time, because even though I have tons of it right now, one day I might not. And how sad would it be if I learned how to cook but stopped doing it when I got too busy with a job or kids? I don’t cook anything overly complex, and it’s fine because it’s not like either of us eats very adventurously in the first place. My goal is to learn how to put together some good, solid meals that I can improvise on later, or make more exciting in the future. Meals that we both like to eat. (Like I said, we eat like seven year olds so I already have a jump on this. Haha.) So far, it’s really working out well.

But you know what else has totally changed my view on cooking? BLOGS. People who blog about how to cook are my heroes for life. (Especially this lady. OMG. She blows my mind with her awesomeness. Also, the freaking amazing fried chicken in my photo today was a recipe from her blog, and it was David-approved.) I’m a very visual person, so cookbooks aren’t usually very good for me. Sure, I’m good at following directions, but I’m also a gun-shy amateur. I like pictures, lots of pictures, and bloggers are often very good about that. Additionally, blogs that cover food and cooking tend to specialize in a certain kind of cooking. There are lots of bloggers out there who mostly talk about the kind of stuff we like to eat, which means I can get a more specific kind of instruction. I bookmark recipes into folders and then pick some things I want to try over the next two weeks. I also like when people review recipes, because usually the people who have already tried that particular one will have advice on how to make it taste better, or how to simplify the process. In short, I love the Internet.

Okay, I feel like I’ve rambled enough about my new cooking hobby. And I super don’t want to hear anyone whining that fried chicken is unhealthy, because duh I know. You’re just jealous cause IT WAS SO GOOD. (This is for everyone but Marjorie. Marjorie, divert your vegetarian gaze away from the chicken. I’m sorry!! Hahaha)

P.S. Oh, and you better believe I texted that picture to my mom. I got a resounding WOW!!!!!!!!!! I BELIEVE U CAN DO IT MARI!!!!!!! KEEP LEARNING!!!!!!! That’s verbatim, except she uses a lot of ellipses too, as well as random Tagalog words. Any time you want a preview of her texting style and formatting, check out one of the many really long conversations she has with people who comment on my FB wall. I’m not kidding, I posted a picture 2 weeks ago and suddenly today there’s this long chat going on between my mother and her friends in the comments…

P.S.S. No, you’re not seeing things or going insane. I really did write 3,522 words between late Saturday night and this morning at 4am. WHAT UP.

01/26/12

{Project 365.26} I Discuss Jungle Survival Skills

My cooking fiascos so far don’t involve anything tasting weird or ending up charred. Actually, the misadventures I’ve had have all been the result of not owning any actual kitchen tools. LOL. Example:

This morning around 11:30-ish, I started putting together this pot roast we were having for dinner. It just had to go in the Crock Pot and sit there for four or five hours, so I figured this wouldn’t be so bad. I peeled and cut the potatoes, peeled the onion and stuck it in the freezer for 10 minutes so it wouldn’t make me cry, thawed the beef and browned it, dumped everything into the slow cooker and took some canned ingredients out of the pantry as the last step in the prep process… only to realize that we didn’t have a can opener.

Oh yes, I know what you’re thinking. Who in the world doesn’t have a freaking can opener??? Well, I can assure you that at one point in time, we DID have one. We had it for years, it was in the box of stuff my parents gave me when I moved out. We even let a neighbor borrow it one time, and it safely returned to us on that same evening. But then, lo and behold, we took it to our wedding last year because David’s mom needed it to make the punch… and our can opener was lost forever. We have no idea where it went or who ended up with it by accident. (Or otherwise… though that seems bizarre. Someone DID waltz off with the remaining half of our champagne, and their identity also remains a mystery.) For the next few months, we didn’t even notice it was gone. Most canned food these days comes with easy-open lids, anyway. But then, in the summer while my sister was with me, she bought a can of ravioli and wanted to have this for dinner… only to realize… YEP! We had no can opener!!!

Being resourceful, I got to work opening the can with a knife so that she could still have the ravioli for dinner, but she immediately became distressed because I was going to, “cut my hand off or something,” and “omg that is dangerous!” YES I KNOW. LOL. (I proceeded to give her a mini-lecture while sawing this can partially open, about how if she didn’t learn to be more inventive and learn to improvise with what tools/potential weapons she had available, she might never survive something catastrophic i.e. a nuclear war or getting kidnapped from a cruise boat in the Philippines by jungle-dwelling terrorists. Did she listen? No. She just wailed that I was crazy. Crazy, maybe. A survivor? Hell. Freaking. Yes.) Anyway, I handed her the can and told her to try opening it herself. I thought it would be a life lesson. She may someday find herself alone without a can opener, wanting desperately to eat. Her response was to make a lukewarm attempt for about five minutes before popping the ravioli can in the fridge and choosing to eat fish sticks instead.

Well, I may not be a quitter, but this morning when I realized we didn’t have a can opener, I only spent five (very frustrating) minutes trying to pry the cans open with a knife before making a decision. That decision was this: as grown-ups, we needed to have a damn can opener, and I was going to buy one ASAP. So, I put down my knife, picked up my purse, and drove to Wal-Mart to settle this once and for all. Luckily, it’s not even five minutes away. I came home with a shiny new can opener, which I will not be bringing to any weddings.

The moral of this story is that being resourceful and learning life skills for how to survive being dragged into the jungle are all well and good, but in the end, you will eventually need to own basic kitchen tools. Such as a can opener.

P.S. My pot roast turned out pretty good. David went back for seconds so I feel validated as an amateur cook for today.

01/25/12

{Project 365.25} I Cook Things & Feel Accomplished

I went to the grocery store today :( It’s truly unbelievable how many people are running around town at 10am on a Wednesday. Still, I got the shopping done and then I hauled all of it upstairs to our second floor apartment. Then, I made David some fruit and yogurt parfaits for his breakfast. He gets up horribly early every day for work, and he doesn’t have much for breakfast unless it’s something he can eat in a hurry or bring with him, so I thought I’d get some of these little reusable plastic containers and make parfaits with blueberries and strawberries. I think they look adorable~~~~ Except there wasn’t any normal granola at the store, so I had to substitute some of David’s Kashi cereal for topping. In any case, this way I can just wash out the containers and make more parfaits.

Also — glory upon glories — I totally cooked a new recipe for dinner. This is part of Phase I of my plan to cook dinner at least three times a week. I made crispy oven-baked chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy. Technically, David was in charge of the mashed potatoes and gravy because these tasks were delegated to him, but still. Hahahaha. It turned out pretty good, so I am labeling the endeavor a success. The mashed potatoes were particularly amazing. Tomorrow it’s slow cooker pot roast.

To end my entry for today, I would like to share that my mother called me bright and early this morning presumably to make small talk but actually to ask me if I could possibly set her up with Facebook Timeline because she was tired of the old Facebook format. Oh, and my sister wouldn’t do it for her because she didn’t know how/hates Facebook. I really had to laugh. I think Facebook totally changed my mom’s life. She was able to still be on her high school reunion committee even though it was happening in the Philippines (she attended last summer and the tide of pictures is STILL coming), and also she routinely suggests that I friend massive lists of relatives I didn’t even know I had. (“WHERE DO THEY KEEP COMING FROM???”) Every day, there is a post from my mom of some kind of inspirational quote, as well as an aggressive campaign to tag me in all pictures she feels I need to see at all costs. No, it doesn’t matter if I’m not actually IN the pictures, so if you see me tagged in something featuring random people who don’t resemble me at all, don’t pause to wonder. Just nod, smile, and bow before my mom’s all-out Facebook Domination. This is what I do. By the way, you better believe she goes by a ninja alias on Facebook. SHE will find YOU, not the other way around. *Control Freak Dance* Hahahahaha. Still, since my family and I are not big on calling one another all the time, FB is how I stay connected with them through my mom’s news feed vigilance. It’s a good thing, as well as completely hysterical.