Cooking & Trust Issues

Knock, knock. Any shrinks out there? 

Have some fun with THIS.

See the image below?

Note the expiration date: 3/15/17. (Yes, beware the Ides of March. Very good. I'm impressed.)

Note the date on this blog post: 2/28/17.

PLEASE EXPLAIN WHY I DO NOT TRUST THIS BUTTER.

Seriously, I have this thing with expiration dates, likely making up for the fact my mother has canned food squirreled away in the basement from 1987 and insists "it's fine, it's fine" and then she wonders why her body is falling apart.

What do I think has happened? The time stamp is wrong? Someone LIED? It's a conspiracy and the maintenance guy sneaked into my apartment and messed with the date or did something to the butter?

Intellectually, I KNOW the butter is fine.

But my lizard brain is like, NOPE. Too close to butter-end-times. Do NOT eat it or you will get sick and die.

What's funny is that last November, right before Thanksgiving, I checked the date on the bottom of a tub of butter in my fridge and posted a little ditty on Facebook lamenting the expiration date because it was 1/20/17 (think about it) and then suddenly it's February and I'm questioning why the butter tastes a little funny and then I realize I'm eating BUTTER THAT HAS EXPIRED and wonder if the universe is getting all political now, too.

And yet.

I can't bring myself to eat this butter.

Am I an idiot cook, or an insane one?

#dontanswerthat

Welcome to My Idiocy

I changed the description of this here blog. Before, it said that I was a 40-something chick who didn't know how to cook.

#notentirelytrue

The 40-something part was (and still is) correct.

The not-cooking part wasn't.

See, I can cook a little. But not with any confidence. I feel like an idiot most of the time, and I have an extremely limited repertoire (LOL! Who am I kidding? There is NO repertoire. I just added my first recipe into my "Regular Rotation" folder on my computer, but have yet to make it again).

I suspect the confidence thing is going to be a life-long struggle, although maybe it will diminish over time.

As for the idiocy thing? That's what this little blog-cooking experiment aims to rectify. Somewhat.

Let's face it: I'm NEVER going to be a chef. And I'm OK with this.

I'm still at the point that when a recipe calls for a "dutch oven," I find myself going to Google images so that I can then check to see if I own one. (I don't, by the way; but my mom just gave me hers since she doesn't use it. It's still sitting on the passenger-side floor of my car; I haven't had enough hands to schlep the darn thing inside.)

Over time, I'm hoping to have a repertoire that will start with some basic entrees, funeral foods, stuff I can bring to potlucks, etc. (Learn more about my 2017 cooking goals here.)

Onward, fellow idiot cooks!

It's OK to Buy Store-Bought Veggie Platters

I went to a wine-tasting event over the weekend, and I brought this store-bought veggie platter courtesy of my local Stop & Shop.

My reasons for not doing the veggie platter myself:

• I worry about making people sick. Yes, even with veggies. It's a problem, I know. If anyone gets sick on this, I can blame it on the grocery store.
• I'm still figuring out proper slicing and chopping techniques. 
• It saved me HOURS. Seriously, it would have taken me probably two hours to wash, cut, have a nervous breakdown, and assemble the platter.

A law school professor I once knew said that a skilled lawyer doesn't necessarily have all the answers, but he or she knows where to find them.

Maybe that's true with this whole culinary thing. Did anyone care that I brought a store-bought veggie platter instead of one that I'd prepared?

Nope.

Or, at least, if they did, they didn't make it obvious.

I think people were happy there was grub to balance out the wine. (I also brought a loaf of French bread, nuts, and dark chocolate.)

Yes...I might very well be my own worst enemy.

#tuesdayepiphany

That said, I know plenty of people who curl their lips at store-bought anything: jarred pasta sauces and gravies, baked goods, etc.

And you know what? That's OK, too. Those folks can make things from scratch (and they probably enjoy doing so).

I guess my point is this: it doesn't have to be a one-size-fits-all solution. The problem was I needed a veggie platter. And going back to my law professor analogy, I knew where to find one.

A Breakfast Recipe for Fellow Idiots

This blog isn't about recipes. But occasionally, I will share some, including some of my own.

And by "some of my own," I mean one. Maybe two.

So here it is, the breakfast I eat every day because I am CONSISTENT, NOT PREDICTABLE, as someone recently explained to me.

I don't even have a name for this recipe. I mean, shit. It's just my breakfast.

Welp, there you have it: that's the name: It's Just My Breakfast.

I'm Queen of the Easy C

I don't plan on getting political on this blog, and god knows by the time anyone actually stumbles on this thing, we'll probably be halfway through DJT's term and people will be like "what the hell is she referencing with this title?"

DJT tweeted about Easy D and the Internet went wild for reasons I had to google since I'm of a certain age and don't understand the youngins' lingo.

Anyhow.

DJT might be all about Easy D (or not, depending on the meaning), but I AM all about Easy C...meaning Easy Cooking.

I mentioned this in an earlier post, but it bears repeating: there's no shame in wanting easy recipes.

Shit, I need to master easy recipes FIRST before even thinking about going for the next level. Considering my Fear of Fowl and the fact I need to google things like "What is an Insta Pot" and "show me images of Dutch Ovens" to figure out if I actually own one, well, I think easy is the only speed I should focus on right now.

I lust after one-pot meals with prep times of five minutes even though the sadistic recipe writers don't admit that prep time = dog years, which is my explanation for why I need to always double and sometimes triple the prep time.

But I suspect I could live quite well--even healthfully--on easy meals and achieve my goals of having some confident, go-to company meals, funeral foods, pot lucks, and impressive date night dinners for my imaginary boyfriends.

We got Queen Bey, but I'll always be The Queen of the Easy C.

How to Slice an Onion

OK, I've sliced onions before, but I always feel like a moron because I have no idea what I'm doing, and I've resigned myself to the fact I will ALWAYS cry. 

I'm a delicate flower, you know.

The recipe I made the other night called for a "thinly sliced red onion," which sent me to Google to make sure I was on my game.

I thought this video from Real Simple was good. Key word: half moons.



Hope you find it helpful as well!

I Survived the Feast of Fowl

I think I've found my first dish that I will enter into this thing called Regular Rotation.

Regular Rotation, as I understand it: your go-to meals. Meals that you feel confident making, that are straightforward to make, that everyone can agree on, that won't kill or sicken the masses.

Last night, I made Easy Tomato Baked Chicken from Kraft Foods. I'd made this dish probably 10 years ago and remembered it being tasty and relatively easy.

THERE IS NO SHAME IN THE WORD EASY, BY THE WAY.

Listen, I have no illusion about becoming Rachel, Julia, Emeril, or that Pioneer chick. This is me, people, a nervous idiot whose main goal is to cook without poisoning myself or others (once I get to that point--right now, I'm just cooking for moi).

I love easy recipes. I'm fairly certain you don't win a prize or extra life chips for spending three hours slaving over dinner as opposed to whipping something up in 30 minutes. I could use that extra 2.5 hours doing something else: reading, writing, contemplating my navel, figuring out how to get the crusty stains off my tub.

This recipe was easy, tasty, and healthy.

When Onions Take Over the World

It will start like this.

I have all these good intentions--in fact, they should rename the crisper the "Drawer of Good Intentions"--and then life happens and work happens and I'm single with no kids so no one really gives two shits what I eat or not so I live on Fuji Apple Chicken Salads from Panera with an apple on the side (lol BREAD) and before long I look up (or down, in this case) and notice the onion has grown tentacles. 

I actually think it would be cool/interesting to let this one go and see where those green tendrils head next, but alas. I'm having work done in my apartment and I don't want to provide evidence confirming I'm a total freak. I mean, shit. That's what this blog is for, amiright?

We're expecting a snow storm here in Boston tomorrow. I BOUGHT CHICKEN. As in chicken I plan on cooking. I figure if I die after eating whatever I make, I won't have to shovel. So there's that. And if I live? Then get ready for another edition of The Idiot Cook, my pets.

Stay tuned.

But admit it. This onion. YOU FEEL ME RIGHT?