(I would like to note that this application was filled out back in 2012 when indeed I didn’t even know how to cook a grilled cheese sandwich. (I always forget the butter side goes on the outside.) I have since acquired some substantial skills in the kitchen. I’d say ever since the kitchen was remodeled, this past summer, I have been on a roll. Not to be confused with a dinner roll.)
I think today is finally the day I share with you my false reality in the kitchen. It’s like placing a baby in the driver’s seat and expecting to make it out of that car ride alive.
If I were to send in an application to “the Worst Cooks in America”, Part Two of that application would look something like this…
II. YOUR FOOD AND COOKING BACKGROUND
Why don’t you cook, or cook well?
I most certainly cook. And that is the problem.
What’s even crazier is I do look at a recipe, of sorts, to cook whatever I plan on torturing.
The first time I realized I was severely handicapped in the kitchen is when I moved in with my husband five years ago. As a treat for all his hard work, at the time making our new home livable, I wanted to make him a nice dinner.
A manly dinner. Steak.
I had never cooked steak prior so I went online to see what the best way was to make this steak mouthwatering. I found something that stated I should “salt the steak to bring out its flavor”. Up to interpretation for a steak cooking virgin, honestly everything is up for interpretation when it comes to me.
I thought to myself, salting a steak that is easy enough. I took it upon myself to really make this steak the best he had ever had by taking a knife and cutting slits into the meat. After I did that I took Morton’s Salt and I rubbed that salt in and for emphasis I sprinkled some more on the top and bottom and let it sit for an hour.
During that hour I went outside to assure my husband that he was going to have a rewarding dinner later. At this point in my life I didn’t understand the concept of protein, starch, veggie… I just understood put food on the plate. So instead of making a side during this hour I decided to preheat the broiler to ensure optimum cooking. We didn’t need a bout of E. Coli, in which I am deathly afraid of thanks to ‘Toxin’ by Robin Cook, I mini panic before I eat any meat to this day due to him.
We sat down for dinner that night, me smiling from ear to ear proud of my good looking steak. My husband very excited that he didn’t have to cook took the first bite. His face contorted into something that you would see watching ‘The Exorcist’, not to insult me he swallows. And continues to “eat” or chew food in mouth afraid to swallow, my interpretation. I figure, hmm it must be okay, at least. I take one bite and I feel as if I am drowning in the ocean. This steak was dried in a salt like coffin. I put my utensils down and stared at my husband, I notified him he could stop eating (please note there was no side to wash this down with just water… lot and lots of water). I certainly was not going to eat this shit so neither was he. He spit out the current piece of jerky in his mouth and asked me what the hell happened. I explained and he just shook his head.
He suggested that we save the steak and bring it to one of the local farms to feed the horses as an alternative to a salt lick.
I am sorry to say my cooking did not improve in the years to come, to date I always manage to sabotage most of my meals.
What scares or intimidates you about cooking?
Nothing scares me about cooking, but other people are scared of my cooking. Or my tactics in the kitchen.
I love to cook; I just do it incorrectly almost every time.
My husband told me after the steak incident that I should follow recipes word for word and if there is no recipe I should move on and find one.
One night I decide that I will make my husband some cookies as a reward for some more hard work. I am seeing a pattern here of reward by food; no wonder why he was fat. BUT anyway I only wanted to make him cookies. I did not want any; I was already gaining a load of weight in beer and wine.
I found a sugar cookie recipe on the back of a bag of flour and decided to cut it in half in the hopes I wouldn’t have any cookies left over for myself. I was moving along fine until I got to ‘one egg’. Well, how the hell was I supposed to get a half of an egg? I sat there and processed for a good five minutes, fiddled with knife meeting egg and then a light bulb went off. I wandered into our spare room where my husband was diligently working on something via the computer; I was looking for scissors. He had assumed that I needed scissors to open a bag or box of some sorts, (silly him) when he walked in on me in the kitchen he was speechless. So much so I didn’t hear or see him observing me in my unnatural habitat.
I was attempting to cut an egg in half, with the scissors. Which I did cut the egg… but it kinda broke incorrectly and I would say 75% of the egg made it into the batter versus the 50% I needed.
At this time my husband and I were not married. I mention this because this story became very popular within my new family. I had to reenact myself cutting an egg in half at a graduation party and my sister in law used this story in her wedding speech to my husband and I.
Jokes on me. I think not, jokes on you. These are the people that still try the “food” I make.
Why is it important for you to become a better cook?
I need to stop wasting money at the grocery store. It all ends up in the trash because all of my meals come out tasting like something Andrew Zimmerman might try in the jungle, bat poo. I might as well go to the grocery store, throw my money in the trash and drive home.
I hope you seriously didn’t think I wouldn’t have another example,… did you? Don’t answer that.
Of course I have an example, don’t I need to prove to you I need some serious mental, wait, cooking aid.
Instead of bringing it back let’s bring it forward to present-ER day so you understand this is an ongoing situation, not just limited to the past experiences.
Labor Day weekend 2012, family picnic at the in laws. I had a grand idea to make chocolate covered eggplant chips. My husband and I spent 3 hours slicing eggplant really thin, frying it, and melting chocolate to drizzle over the eggplant. First, it sounds disgusting so I am not sure why either of us went through with it. Second, if it doesn’t sound disgusting to you I should probably enlighten you to how it came out.
Limp “chips” with chocolate lobbed on top, a side of grease.
The in laws tried it because they felt bad that we sweated off half our body weight over the stove to create this poor excuse for a unique, exquisite dessert.
The whole time doing this I was so excited, I felt like I was in ‘Chopped” ready to win the grand prize over my unique three ingredient creation.
Sigh.
What will happen if you don’t become a better cook? What specifically is at stake for you?
Nothing really, I am already considered an atrocious cook. It can’t get much worse than you’re cooking coming up in a wedding speech.
Let’s just chalk it up to if I don’t become a better cook and my husband is ever not around my future children and I may starve to death. How many days could your body go without food?
How do your friends and family respond to your cooking?
With laughter. Lots and lots of laughter. Sometimes a doggy shit bag makes it to the table, sometimes.
What impact has being a bad cook had on your life? What makes you think you are truly a BAD
cook?
There isn’t much of an impact it just makes it hard for me to fend for myself. I have to rely on others to make me my food or else I will be eating garbage. I’ve had a many PMS cravings unsatisfied with the nonsense I have thrown together to cook.
And I don’t THINK I am a bad cook, I KNOW I am a bad cook. For the many examples I have given to you today.
When did you first realize you were not a good cook? What happened?
I explained this in the first question; I guess I jumped the gun.
I probably should have realized this back in high school when I was left to watch my brother; I had to make mac and cheese… (Kraft from the box) for dinner and my parents weren’t even out of the driveway before I was calling their cell phones because I didn’t understand how to get 1/4th of a cup of butter.
I am sure there were more questions than that but let me save on some embarrassment where I can with a faulty memory.
Is there any one dish or a style of cuisine that you DO cook well? Why have you mastered it?
Cakes. I love cake. But I only have mastered it because all it requires is for you to mix some things, throw it in a pan and bake. Oh yes, I am talking about boxed cake. And yes, I am talking about something you can walk away from to let the stove do all the work for you.
You see I live in the real world where baking a cake from a box IS baking a cake from scratch.
The first cake I made my husband in the ‘trying to woo him’ over stage, prior to dating, I brought to him at work as a surprise. This should have been his warning sign to look past my startling good looks, cough, and find someone who had some meat on them to guarantee they knew what they were doing in the kitchen, ya know good housewife material.
He ignored the big, fat, un frosted sign.
His sign was a chocolate cake in a 13X9 pan with no frosting on top, just sprinkles. I don’t like frosting, I just like sprinkles.
Describe a day of eating in your life, what do you for breakfast, lunch and dinner on a daily basis?
Well I am on a health kick so it’s pretty simple.
Belveeta Crackers
Snack (like a pear)
Sandwich
Snack (like yogurt or almonds)
Whatever my husband throws on my plate
Possibly another snack (like a peanut butter pack)
If I knew how to make some fancy health dishes this would probably be a more appealing list. I am probably failing my personal trainer for my lack of creativity and diversity in the kitchen. No doubt in my mind.
What dishes or kinds of food do you wish you could cook and why?
Any and every dish.
I really want to be able to cook without a recipe and with things lying around the house.
One because I hate grocery shopping, I loathe it in fact, so to be able to have the skill to cook with what I have would be amazing. Two I want to be able to say “BAM” when I throw things in the pan or pot to emphasize my great skills. Right now if I say “BAM” someone comes running to check if I am throwing salt into hot cocoa. (I don’t really want to share the story of my mess up with hot cocoa. I live in a very sad cooking reality.)
Why do you think you never learned to cook properly?
This is easy. I don’t listen. And if I do listen I interpret what I hear in a completely different way than intended because I am creative spirit. Just go with it.
Also, I always assume the recipe is a lie.
Is there someone you think is responsible for your being unable to cook? Who is it, and why are they to blame?
Oh no, I can admit when I am in the wrong.
Share one (or more) specific memory or situation where being unable to cook made you unhappy, frustrated or embarrassed:
I think the worst, best example is when I attempted homemade HEALTHY mac and cheese.
My husband was working late one night and I wanted to surprise him with dinner; it’s always a surprise even if he knows about it lets not lie to ourselves. We love mac n cheese and all this healthy, diet food was hindering our mac n cheese necessities. I decided to check outallrecipies.com for some good ideas to make mac n cheese in a healthier way. The problem was I took my favorite parts of five different recipes and put them in one.
My husband came home to me working over the stove, chopping up onions, etc. He happened to be on the phone and later told me that because I looked like I knew what I was doing he didn’t bother to stop and check in. Always a common mistake made by all, assuming I have the slightest clue of what I am doing.
I threw my concoction into the oven and let it bake. We sat down for dinner and it went something like this.
Eddie: “This smells good.”
*places forkful of fake mac n cheese into his mouth, spits out immediately*
It wasn’t even good enough to swallow to not add insult to injury.
Me: “Is it that bad?”
*Silence*
It is very hard to hush Eddie commentary.
Me: * while Eddie stares at me, places forkful of fake mac n cheese into my mouth, I swallow…my pride*
Eddie: “I most likely don’t want to know but I have to ask, what is this and what is in it?”
Me: *fiddling with fork* “Ummm, well this is supposed to be a healthy version of mac n cheese. There’s wheat pasta, cheese, onion, powdered milk…”
Eddie: “Onion. Really? (I love onion, I try to add this to everything I make, its good for your heart you know)
Wait, powdered milk?”
Me: “We had no milk left, I was being creative.”
Eddie: “Did you at least make the milk first?”
Me: “Wait, what? You have to make powdered milk?”
Eddie: *so disgusted with the dinner, or maybe it was me, he couldn’t even continue the conversation*
“You know where this is going right? It’s going straight into the garbage, and it’s this dishes lucky night. It is garbage night.”
I was actually hurt this night because we couldn’t even laugh about the experience until weeks later that’s how awful the tasting experience was. I am sure it scarred him.
If Oscar was in that trash can I am sure he would have even cringed.
What do you hope to gain from this experience, aside from just learning how to cook better? What will becoming a better cook do for you personally?
I will be able to entertain without hurting myself or others via food poisoning or using sharp utensils.
It’s really as simple as that. I think I need to learn how to cook and use items in the kitchen before I can actually have a bigger goal than that.
So, who wants to pick me? Bobby Flay preferably, I like his sauces, wink* wink*
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