The Guilty Cook

I feel guilty about the fact that I hate to cook. As a woman you feel like you have an obligation to not only cook, but to enjoy the process. I don’t. I like to eat. Does that count? My husband said I’m not doing it right. All good cooks turn on some music, pour a glass of wine and then everything begins to click and in no time at all you have dinner in the oven, it smells delicious, and tastes even better. You even have time and energy to sit down and enjoy another glass of wine.

So, I tried it. I got all set up with a glass of white vintage. My iTunes isn’t working, so it was an old episode of Castle on TNT and I was off and running with my cutting board, skillet, vegetable, chicken, and fruit. Everything you need to make a yummy meal and nope…no pop! No sizzle! No sudden realization that, “I love this! Why didn’t I start drinking wine sooner?” Turns out if you don’t enjoy cooking, no amount of wine or reruns of Castle are going to make it better.

I have several cookbooks. I only have the ones that guarantee you can fix a meal in 30 minutes or less and that have pretty pictures. I need to know what it’s suppose to look like. Have you ever opened a cookbook? They excel at giving you a list of ingredients as long as your arm. Half of them you have no idea what they are or where to get them. I flip through for a shorter list and wonder how you can prepare a meal in 30 minutes if you have to gather 20 ingredients! I give up and toss it on the bottom shelf of the bookcase. I proceed to rummage around for one that says, “Easy Meals in 15 Minutes or Less”. That’s better. No need to be bored before I get that first glass of wine poured!

I can not say that I have been able to cross over and find joy in cooking. Thanks to my husband’s suggestion though, what I have discovered is that I feel very cosmopolitan drinking my wine while I’m whipping up tacos, burgers, and scrambled eggs. All in 15 minutes or less.

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