It’s tough when you can’t find your way around the kitchen. I mean, I know where the fridge is, but I do need to map quest my way from the fridge to the stove. Over the years I have attempted to cook a meal here and there. I had a few successes, but nothing I can call my own. My kids used to ask me who this Stouffer person was that made our meals every night.
I had a cookbook called 365 Ways to Cook Chicken. That’s right – one entire year of eating chicken every single night. Who knew there could be that many ways to prepare little foghorn leghorn. But there are, and I made them all. I decided to call it quits on the chicken frenzy when we all woke up one morning with an egg coming out of our asses.
Some meals turned out pretty good, except for the time that one recipe called for a clove of garlic. Not being up on the cooking terms, I didn’t know that a clove was just a piece of the garlic thingy, so I threw in the entire bulby thing, or whatever it’s called. Wooooo…that was some smelly chicken when all was said and done. Needless to say, that meal went into the trash. Even our dog turned and walked away from the scraps we gave her.
One of my co-workers consistently comments on Facebook about his garden and what he is cooking for dinner. I have never heard of half the shit he is talking about. What the f**k is chard? He grows that. And he cooks with it. Or does something with it. I’m not quite sure but I am definitely impressed. Of course he could be making up half this crap and I would have no clue because all I pretty much know are ketchup and mustard and salt and pepper. I wait to read his posts just so I can gain a culinary vocabulary. I would have no idea how to use any of the words in a sentence, but what the hell. I feel like I’m gaining knowledge.
Years ago I was in the audience of the Richard Simmons show. Back in the 70’s, he had an exercise/health show. Being in advertising, we had access to a lot of free tickets to many TV shows and events. Some good, some not so good. I had two tickets to this one, which, believe it or not, was considered good at the time. I decided to take my dad. We were sitting in the audience and I caught Richard’s eye. He asked if my dad and I wanted to be in the cooking segment of his show. Like I would say no to that! I didn’t let on that we were probably the two most cooking challenged people in his audience, let alone the world. Little did I know we had to actually help him prepare a meal.
So there I was, with my Rosanne Rosannadanna hair, my Dolphin shorts pulled up to my boobs, and my leg warmers, standing up in front of millions of people on a kitchen set on the Richard Simmons show. I was smokin’!
Then Richard asked me to peel a pear. What? Seriously? He handed me the peeler and the pear and I started peeling. Well…sort of. While he was talking about the meal and how healthy and nutritious it was, the pear slid out of my hand, onto the floor, and rolled off the stage. All while the cameras were focused on me! I was dying. All I wanted to do was hide behind his ‘fro. Richard proceeded to make total fun of me asking if I’ve ever been in a kitchen before and my answer was “absolutely…but I’ve never prepared anything in a kitchen before.” Obviously, the nutrition segment of his show was cut short.
I can’t say I’ve gotten any better over the years…which is why I married men that could cook. Unfortunately, those didn’t last. There’s a lot more to a marriage than a good meal, so I found out.
But I’ve gotten much better at seeking out a wider variety of frozen foods. And I make one hell of a salad! I may never be the next Rachel Ray, but I am up for the Better Homes & Gardens Cleanest Kitchen of the Year Award.