Many know that when a person has a problem, the first step to recovery is admission. The time has come for me to face my demise and admit I have a problem.
I am a terrible housewife.
Most notably when it comes to the art of cooking...well I just plain suck. When I was in college and taking 15 hour semesters and working full time, I loved to claim to be lazy and just pop something in the microwave and have dinner ready in just 2 easy minutes. I was really good at this. I knew microwaves inside and out. Directions? Please! When my Smart One directed me to cook my "pasta primavera" on high for 3 minutes, I knew that really meant 2 minutes and 30 seconds. It was an art form. I could boil water like no one's business. I thought I was the queen of Spaghetti Sundays. I was fooled into thinking I was actually good at preparing meals, given I had the time.
And then I graduated, got a fiance and became a stay-at-home, unemployed, shitty cook.
Reality sucks.
However, I was optimistic. I had loads of time to cook full meals every day of the week so...what should be stopping me from doing such a thing? I looked up recipes and went to the store to buy all the essentials. Oils, whole chickens, steaks, peppers, fancy cheeses, cooking wines, spices, steaks, etc. You name it, I bought it. I was focused and determined to cook gourmet meals for my soon-to-be hubby. I couldn't wait for him to brag about my cooking to others, to look forward to coming home from work and smell the luscious scents of simmering beef and chicken on the stove. Jordan was going to be so happy he asked me to marry him.
Reality sucks.
On the first day of my "I am a goddess in the kitchen" week, all hell broke loose. I wanted to make chicken tetrazzini. Only, I didn't have a pot big enough to boil a whole chicken. Thus commencing a 2 hour long and stressful process to which I don't want to relive by writing out the details. Then I forgot to get some ingredients, and only half of the others.
I had failed miserably.
No worries! Jordan's birthday was coming up and I could heal all wounds by baking him a creamy and luxurious chocolate cake. You know, one of those add eggs and water and the powder from the box and just stir and bake ones? Ya, how could I mess that up? I was determined once more to regain my goddess status.
Except I didn't know there was a difference between vegetable oil and olive oil when it comes to baking cakes...and all I had was olive oil.
No one ate the birthday cake.
And then I even forgot to give him his card.
I hope he's still happy he asked me to marry him.
My daily meals went from aspirations of delectable dishes to stress inducers. I now keep a bottle of whiskey right next to the stove, for it seems I can only get through boiling water without a bit of American Honey and Sprite (one of my new favorite mixed drinks).
Dreams of Jordan coming home from work to a kitchen filled with the lovely smells of his dinner cuisine quickly became him coming home to a stressed fiance and sentences such as, "I burned shit on the stove again."
After a couple more disasters in the kitchen it dawned on me that I would never be a goddess at the tender age of 23. Cooking was not a gift. Cooking is an art form one has to master over the years.
So here I am admitting I have a problem. It tears my heart up that I have reverted back to my college days of cooking skills. That most of our dinners require me to heat something on a skillet and let simmer for 8 minutes. But I won't let it get me down. I still have my whiskey and coke and a loving man who enjoys food no matter how it is prepared. So I have decided to take things slow. Do a major dish that requires an actual recipe (and not just directions on a box) only every so often.
I got brave and decided to tackle chicken tetrazzini once again last week.
And it was a success!
Perhaps I won't have to give my ring back afterall :)
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