Blair and I went grocery shopping today (where we ran into not one not two but THREE sets of neighbors when all we had yet in our cart was Gilette razor blades, birdseed, and two huge boxes of Playtex sport-glide tampons because we had a coupon about to expire - one can only imagine what they think of us) and then I came home and cooked. Blair, wise/cowardly man that he is, disappeared upstairs. He crept back down a few hours later and peered around the kitchen door.
"Everything okay in here?" he asked.
"Fine," I said, smiling cheerfully while I drained some edamame. "Why?"
"Um, I heard some... questionable noises a while back."
I thought for a moment. "Oh yeah. The stupid rack where we keep the tupperware lids overturned and scattered everywhere. Oh, and then I was checking e-mail and my rice almost burned..."
I try to see the noises emanating from the kitchen from Blair's POV. He sits upstairs and hears things like, "Ooh... yum! So good... yum. Yu--DAMMIT! SON-OF-A=*&%@#. YOU STUPID... oooh... Yummy!"
I'm a little schizo when I cook.
I've discovered I'm not a good planner. This morning, for instance, I found a recipe for brown rice and lentil burgers and, since we have leftover lentils I've been looking to use, decided we'd have that for dinner. So mentally congratualting myself for planning ahead, I went ahead and made some brown rice - a 45 minute process.
While the rice was simmering, I laid out the menu for the rest of the week only to discover that I need, like, 5 more cups of brown rice.
"Dammit!" I say, pounding my fists on the table.
Blair rushes in. "What?"
"I'm not making enough rice."
"And this is a tragedy because...???"
He's just lucky I wasn't holding the bag of frozen edamame at the time because I would have taken the shot.
Blair and I are dying to see the new Julie & Julia movie. We've decided I should have my own cooking show on The Food Network. "Dena's Dinner Disasters" or some such thing. Blair imitates my voice to perfection as he holds up a pan and says, "Dammit! This isn't supposed to look like this!" My show will be me trying to make simple dishes and the catastrophes that naturally arise. I'll say things like, "If YOU were able to follow this stupid recipe than this dish pre-prepared by our staff here at the Food Network SHOULD be what your food likes like instead of this fire hazard I'm holding."
THAT would be a reality show to watch.
Have to go now. Off in search of organic bran flour in my little town of Madison. Hope beats strong in the heart of a chef.