I don’t remember if I posted my last experience in the kitchen. It was frustration and mayhem. Complete and utter mayhem. I don’t even know where to start in my experience.
My mother said: “because you decided to _______ in the __________ and you have less than _______ days left with me. Those days you will cook dinner.”
Mind you, my parents are very good cooks and I’m lucky to say that most days I have a home cooked meal. This came as a shock to me, as I’ve only started cooking in September.
I’m not kidding. All these years I’ve never helped out in the kitchen of had an interest in cooking. I had an interest in eating. I picked up a knife, a few tomatoes, onions, garlic, peppercorn, salt, tomato sauce, milk, and noodles and made my own pasta recipe mimicking my cutting style after what I had seen my parents do in the kitchen the few times I decided to watch.
My dad tasted it and deducted that I have a hidden talent for cooking and improvisation. Ever since then they’ve been pressuring me to cook.
Well, this is my dinner menu for the next week:
Sorry if its to the side, it reads:
Baked pesto chicken,
Chili coke roast,
Bacon and cheese quiche (I specialize in quiches),
Honey pecan pork chops,
Easy chicken stroganoff,
I’ve never worked with anything other than vegetables, fruits, carbohydrates and eggs. So the chickens and the pork will be interesting, especially since the recipes call for me to do some extra work with them.
Off to cook! Tell you all about it later!