I am adequate to a lot of activities. Dancing, drawing, writing… you name it. But cooking is just not one of my virtues. If I end up lost at an island in the middle of nowhere, I’ll die from starvation because I’m no good at preparing food.
At home I’m sadly known as the vicious killer of eggs because I can’t even handle an omelet. I tried several times, honestly. And it feels kinda weird, for my Mom is a great cook. My kid sister makes wonderful deserts. My Dad’s barbeque is out of competition. Sometimes I even start thinking – do I belong to this family?:-)
My kitchen phobia starts from its threshold. I believe that cooking is just something I’m not meant to be doing because I can read a simple recipe thoughtfully and attentively, fulfill a step-by-step procedure described in a book and still end up with something that can barely be called food, let alone delicious dish. And it feels like a whole lot of stress. Yes, cooking is stressful.
But, ha-ha, I’m great at making cereals with milk for breakfast. A task as easy as this one I can handle with no problems. If to be serious (although the topic doesn’t presuppose it), I’m also an ace at making tea and coffee… I mean real tea and coffee, and not these voodoo rituals with a spoon of granulated coffee powder and some sugar on top of it.
I guess one day, when some crazy fellow will talk me into getting married, I’ll have to learn the kitchen alphabet. Otherwise, I’m running into the risk of ending up in jail for poisoning my own husband. But till these times I’m going to enjoy my Mom’s food and Domino’s pizza:-)
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