Confessions of a non-cook
Sometimes we aren’t who we see ourselves to be, and it takes a long time to realize. I’ve always wanted to be THAT girl who could walk into a kitchen and work marvels delighting family and friends with my culinary skills. Trying over the years to get cooking in my blood, to learn how to do it, to feel it, get it in my bones. Even going so far as to tell people that I could cook. Guys mainly.
Well, here goes… my confession, right now. Not only can I NOT cook, but I most often don’t even WANT to cook. (Exhale) There. I’ve said it.
Now I love good food, and will follow the heck out of a recipe to create a spread. I will also join others in the kitchen for hours to prepare a feast. Yet, to create complete meals that make sense and ensure my proper nutrition on a daily basis has never been something I could do with consistency. I didn’t grow up in the kitchen, and as the youngest child only had to worry about getting to the table within moments of being called. As an adult, I habitually prepare incomplete meals that I often find perfectly satisfying – think an entrée no sides or sides no entrée. Oh, and there is that pizza recipe I’ve perfected and can intuitively prepare that contains all of the major food groups.
But I digress. Coming up with a meal requires buying ingredients I usually don’t already have on hand and then throwing the unused amounts away – SIN! Worse yet, I often don’t finish what I’ve cooked because I’ve either cooked too much or it just didn’t turn out right. Freezing has never been an option. I have no idea why.
Over the years friends have offered to help me and some have. Nonetheless, when standing in my kitchen alone, I often make a bee-line to the phone or just grab my keys and head out. Then there’s the last option of eating an entrée with no sides, or sides with no entrée.
My confession is deeper than just saying that I can’t cook and when given the choice won’t cook, but in a recent 7 week challenge at my yoga studio I committed to learning how to cook better for myself. I did for 7 weeks in earnest try to become THAT girl, but I’m finding that SHE would rather fess up to who she really is. A non-cook.
There’s freedom in revelation and in confession. And as I wrap up this blog, I am going to pull out the rest of the corn on the cob, steamed kale and baked sweet potato for dinner. Later I’ll incorporate dairy with a bowl of ice cream. Tomorrow, I’ll eat out.