The Scariest Word in Recipes

To me, the scariest word in recipes is "meanwhile" and all of its various synonyms.

"Let the chicken brown for 2-4 minutes. Meanwhile, chop the onions, peppers, squash, tomatoes, eggplant, jicama, and garlic scapes and sprinkle with sea salt, Herbes de Provence, and a spritz of unicorn tears."

Haven't recipe writers heard the news that multitasking doesn't work? 

Mind Games with Vegetables - Let's Play!

So I've been writing this blog in virtual anonymity for the last three months. I'm a full-time writer (copywriter by day, novelist by night), so I'm quite used to people reading my work.

I have to say it's been liberating writing without anyone I know reading this here site.

That ended last week when a friend of mine stumbled on it by way of a buried link on my Google+ profile.

When Your Regular Rotation Dish Wakes You Up at 3AM

Do you blame the chicken, or the cook?

This is why cooking stresses me out, the constant fear of getting sick (or making other people sick) because I have NO CONFIDENCE.

I made my one-and-only regular rotation dish last night (second time in a month!). I used a meat thermometer to combat my Fear of Fowl (TM) and cooked the darn dish for fifteen minutes longer than the recipe called for because that's what I did last time and because I don't trust my oven, but, honestly, that's the oven's fault.

Tasted great. I may have had two servings while watching the latest episode of The Blacklist and then catching a freebie version of Twilight Breaking Dawn Part 2 (don't judge) and wondering if men can actually love a woman like Edward loves Bella Swan.

Everything's fine until 3AM when I awaken to a noisy tummy and the need to, you know, go, and I start calculating when I had dinner (7PM) and wondering if botulism can kick in that fast and then wondering if it could be the dinner I had out the night before (filet mignon, something I will never, ever attempt to cook). How do people or the CDC ever pinpoint what, exactly, made them sick when food poisoning is indeed the culprit?

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.

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.

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?

What I Have in Common with The Queen

I'm watching The Crown on Netflix, which is about young Queen Elizabeth when she ascended to the throne.

There's a flashback scene to when she was a little girl, probably about eleven or twelve. She's being tutored by the vice provost at Eton College. He is teaching her the difference between "the efficient" and "the dignified." The legislature is efficient and the crown is dignified, something along those lines. At one point, she stops the provost and asks if this is what he teaches his other students.

He responds, "No, just you. This is what I teach them." Then, he drops a huge stack of papers on her desk. Exam papers. She pages through. They include complicated math that makes me twitch. She asks, "Shouldn't I know all of this, too?" He's like, "No, ma'am. All very undignified."

My Love-Hate Relationship with Cooking Blogs

I have a love/hate relationship with cooking blogs. 

I love them because they offer hope: what I could be, if I just tried a little harder, applied myself, and got over my fear of cooking fowl.

But I also hate them because they all look so calm and lovely with their high quality photographs and pastel colors with plenty of white space. They don't show the angst that someone like me goes through on a daily basis when it comes to cooking. I mean, seriously: The color of my blog should be blood, sweat, and tears. Think vomit (for food poisoning) and charred-black for burnt dinners. No white space, because nothing about my literal or figurative cooking life is clear and uncluttered.

Listen, I'm not a happy person, and I don't find this fun. Even the people who have blogs where they're learning to cook—these people are not like me. They're married or have boyfriends and are young and chipper and many have kids. They're not this single, sad, 44-year-old chick living in a studio apartment and who doesn't even have a cat anymore because the cat is dead.

But I go to these blogs anyway.                

#emotionalcutter

Often, I'll find recipes that look good and doable, but then I'll encounter this One Step or Sneaky Ingredient (or both) that throws me off and then I'm like, Hello, Papa Gino's. Come to mama. And don't forget the bread sticks either. No, they're not redundant with pizza!

Right now, I'm looking at Skinnytaste.com, which is a great website. It's all about healthy recipes. They have their 25 Most Popular Skinnytaste Recipes of 2016.

Sometimes This is Dinner

And you know what? It's OK.

It's OK to buy a chicken from Stop & Shop and boil bagged rice and heat up frozen mixed veggies and call it a day. 

Because sometimes it's a hard week and clients are pains in the ass (asses?) and the work-in-progress feels like you're trying to catch a pterodactyl with a butterfly net. It happens. And you want to cook and you want to eat healthy, but it's just you, not even the cat to guilt you into anything with his Stare of Condemnation, because the cat is dead (long live the cat!) and has been for almost two years.

But here's the thing. It's better than pizza, I guess. And when I went to the store, I avoided the cans of chocolate frosting calling my name even though I wanted nothing more than to open one up and eat directly from it with a spoon. And then buy a bag of Tostitos and layer them with cheese and nuke 'em for a minute and jump into bed with nothing but the memory of my dead cat and lots of Netflix.

THAT didn't happen, at least. 

And I WILL do something with the leftover chicken. I have an easy chicken noodle soup that I'll make with the remaining meat on the bone and I'll share that here, at some point. I haven't gotten to the point where I'll boil the carcass or make my own stock (haven't the first clue!), but that's OK, too.

I will eat tonight. And it will be relatively healthy. And life will go on. And tomorrow (or next week) will provide another opportunity for me to challenge my lack of culinary skills and confidence.

Onward!

That Time I Adapted a Recipe Called Easy Penne Pasta Bake

5:00 PM

Okay. I wasn't even going to do this, because I was kind of having a nervous breakdown today. But the whole purpose of this stupid adventure is to learn to cook even when you don't feel like it.

I was going to make firecracker chicken. I survived the garlic chicken from last week. Then, as the day wore on, I wasn't feeling well. I said, "You know what? I'm not going to make chicken, because if I don't feel well tomorrow, I don't want to blame it on my cooking unless I absolutely know that's the cause."

Then, I remembered that I have a fairly well stocked pantry. I should be able to whip something up. In theory.

This is the thing, this is why I don't know how to cook, and this is the thing that eludes me and I probably am never going to learn because I do think this is a skill, to be able to look at a whole bunch of ingredients and be like "THIS is what I'm going to make!"

I can't do that. I don't ever see myself having that ability. I can follow a recipe. But to figure it out on my own? I can't do that.

I was thinking how about some penne with mozzarella and some tomatoes and maybe some peppers and onions, because I have a frozen bag of peppers and onions? You would think there would be some sort of recipe online with those ingredients. They're not weird ingredients. But, no. Not having any luck finding anything remotely like that.

I found a recipe called "Easy Penne Pasta Bake." I'm adapting it, which, right there, is scary. That's a scary word for me when it comes to cooking. Adapting.

New Year's Resolutions for an Idiot Cook: 2017 Edition

Right now, the measure of my culinary success is this: I don't get sick or die after I cook something.

Extreme, but 100% true.

I don't cook for anyone else right now, because it's too nerve wracking.

But my goal is to change all that in 2017. 

That's the overarching theme: The Year of the Unpuke.  

That Time I Cooked Creamy Garlic Chicken

December 22, 5:00 PM

Tonight, I am going to make one pot creamy garlic chicken and rice.

The scary thing about this particular recipe? Chicken.

Now, I love chicken.

I eat a lot of chicken, but cooking chicken freaks me out.

It's not because of the animal thing or anything like that. It's because of germs. It's because I'm afraid I'm going to kill somebody, most notably myself, since I'm eating alone.

My fear is that I'm going to get whatever it is that you get when you eat bad chicken. I can't think of the name right now, but you know what I'm talking about.

[editor's note: salmonella]

So, this is a concern. This is a big deal.

I know for everyone else out there, cooking chicken is not a big deal, but it's a big deal for this chick. I didn't die last week when I made my spinach and pasta bake, because obviously I'm still here. But there wasn't anything all that dangerous in last week's meal.

Now we got some meat going on, so we got the danger.