It's like Sex and the Suburbs and 30 Rock all rolled into one…
I blame my mother: she didn’t cook either. Growing up, dinner was often served in courses – the veggies, then the starch and then perhaps the meat. Nothing ever came out at the same time, and sometimes it wasn’t very good. My mother can make the most amazing cookies, cakes and pastries but she never figured out the subtle art of cooking. Baking is all science; following a good recipe will get you good results. But cooking is different. Cooking requires that you adjust. Unfortunately, I can do neither well. Well, that’s perhaps not accurate – I have not the patience to do either well.
Except that some nights, when I’m in the mood, I can cook a pretty fabulous meal. My rice and beans, which takes about 20 minutes to prepare, is better than you’ll get at most restaurants. My baked ziti has been rumored to bring all the boys to the yard. And when I grill, look out! But the thing of it is, being single, there’s hardly any incentive to cook. I’m not a foodie. True, I enjoy good food and better drink, but on the day-to-day, food just isn’t that important to me. A bowl of good cereal for dinner is okay by me.
But last night I realized something – leftovers! So to the kitchen I ventured armed with a scant few ingredients because my pay check was delayed and I couldn’t go grocery shopping. I boiled some whole wheat pasta. Then I sautéed some fake chicken in olive oil, garlic (I love the freeze dried kind) and paprika (mainly for color). Poured in a can of diced tomatoes and added a really course mustard, some balsamic vinegar and creamed honey. Salt and black pepper for some heat. And guess what? It was amazing. So today’s lunch, rather than mall food, will be a home made meal that is delicious. That’s something I can get behind.