Domestic Bliss (or...something like that...)

Food and I, historically, have had a rocky relationship. We've been on-again/off-again for the last 15ish years. That is the first reason why I didn't learn to cook at the age when normal girls learn to cook (somewhere between ages 15 and 20, I think...).

The second reason is that my lifestyle since, oh...middle school, has not been too conducive to eating many meals at home. Especially now, because my job involves many obligations in the evenings and I live 15 miles out of town. So "running home" to cook and eat dinner for one before a 7:00pm meeting, when I'm already in town, just isn't very practical.

Lastly, my mother, who - for most girls - is the primary source of culinary mentoring in one's life, was the queen of casseroles. And I hate casseroles. Don't get me wrong. My mother is not a bad cook. She's a fine cook. But she had five kids and taught piano lessons in the living room everyday after school. So casseroles made lots of good sense. Cooking in our house was a necessity, not an art. My mom had neither the extra time or extra money (or appreciative audience) to make a hobby of gastronomy. So I grew up thinking that if you cooked your own food, you ate casseroles and sloppy joes (or taverns, if you're from east-river) and Hamburger Helper (not my faves). If you wanted to eat pasta, or ethnic food (my faves) you went out.

(There is a fourth reason too, which is that I'm quite content with a half-pound of raw almonds, a Granny Smith and cheese. I can eat this as a meal about six times in a week before I get sick of it...)

And hence, I didn't learn to cook. Well, at least not when I maybe should have. And I was okay with it, except on occasion when friends would want me to come over and cook with them, and then the embarrassing secret was out. I'd be standing around dumbly in their kitchen and they'd ask me to do something like "make the gravy", and I'd have to have them walk me through it step by step. Acceptable when you're 10. Less so when you're in your late twenties.

And then...something happened.

One day, about a year and a half ago, I was hungry for pad thai. (That's not the unusual part...I get hungry for pad thai every-other day...) So I considered calling up Saigon and putting in a takeout order, but the $14 tab was a deterrent. And then is when the unusual happened. It suddenly dawned on me that I could cook my own pad thai. Wha-?? So I googled a few recipes, found one that sounded doable, and headed for the grocery store. About three hours later I had a plateful of decent-for-my-first-foray-into-cooking pad thai. It was surprisingly good. Not as good as the Saigon, but still, good. This was a life-changing discovery. I could make something I loved to eat...ALL BY MYSELF! And it didn't cost me $14. It cost me $22. 'Cause I didn't have any staples in my cupboard to start with. But next time, it might only cost me the price of some beans sprouts and an egg. So, sooner or later, this whole cooking thing could turn out to be economical.

My second culinary revelation happened this last December. My friend Steph and I were going to hang out, and she suggested we spend the evening baking. End goal: cupcakes. This didn't sound like a truly enjoyable evening of leisure to me. Well, the cupcakes did...but not the baking part. I can rattle off a list of local dining establishments with brilliant desserts. Why not make someone else go to the trouble, and we could just enjoy the fruits of their labor? But I consented and I found myself a few hours later in my kitchen, with $40 worth of baking supplies, flipping through a Paula Dean cookbook and learning how to scrape seeds from a vanilla bean. At 2:30am we finally sat down in my dining room to eat what were, without questions, THE BEST CUPCAKES I HAVE HAD IN MY ENTIRE LIFE. No joke. They were incredible. Paula herself would have been proud. We made red velvet cupcakes with vanilla bean frosting and honey walnut cupcakes with goat cheese frosting, and I couldn't stop saying, "How is this possible!? We made them ourselves!" And that was the day that I discovered that I could derive joy from taking several hours to handcraft the perfect baked goods. Who knew?!?

And so, I've learned to cook. And learned to love it. Or at least learned what I love and what I don't. I don't love chicken, or beef, or pork. (I don't care if I never touch another raw chicken leg for the rest of my life.) I do love anything with sundried tomatoes, crimini mushrooms, and/or cream sauce. I've learned how to devein shrimp (thank God for youtube and an iPhone). And that couscous is the little black dress of the kitchen. And that my mini rice cooker is the best $15 dollar purchase I've made in years. And cream sauce...did I mention I love cream sauce?

So, I'd like to offer an open invitation. If you are reading this, you are invited to my house for dinner. I'm not kidding. Just give me a ring on the telly and we'll pick a day. I have a list a mile long of recipes I want to try. Consider yourself warned that whatever I feed you, it's most definitely the first time I've made it, so I don't make promises about any of it. And...I keep milk and granola on hand as a backup.