I'm culinarily illiterate.
That doesn't just mean I don't like to cook, or that I'm not a very good cook (although I'm not). It means I'm terrified of the kitchen.
The problem is that I not only married someone who loves to cook and who happens to be very talented at it, but who also comes from a family where food isn't just a passion, but an actual dialect. It's how you tell someone you love them. It's how you connect and share substance. The amount of care you put into planning a meal is a direct correlation to how much you care about the people you serve it to.
I come from a family where food wasn't all that important. For us, food is more sustenance than an expression of love. So the fact that yes, if I'm tired, a bowlful of Life cereal and milk seems like a perfectly acceptable dinner to me just does not compute for my poor spouse. Why is cooking so hard and frustrating for me, when it's one of the most sincere ways to him to show how much he cares?
The only people who truly understand this fear of cooking are other culinary illiterates. For people who like to or who are good cooks are completely confounded by this concept. Can't you read a recipe, they ask? Have you tried to learn? Why don't you like it?
Here's the thing: Culinary illiterates don't have the basic building blocks, so trying to follow any sort of blueprints don't make any sense to us. It's like trying to learn how to read without first knowing the letters of the alphabet. For me, it's like what happened to me in high school math. I never really got algebra II and trig, which made calculus a painstaking experience for me
This is what I mean. It's not that I don't know how to make a recipe. It's the things that AREN'T written in the recipe that terrify me. When do you cover the pot, or remove the cover? How do you get the oil to the right temperature so that you don't splatter it all over the @#$#$% stove and damn near start a grease fire every time you attempt to cook something? Are frozen shrimp actually cooked, or not? And can you refreeze shrimp, or will you run the risk of killing your family with some sort of evil food virus that you don't know about because you're culinarily illiterate???
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.
That's exactly it. I don't know what I don't know, and it stresses me the heck out. What's relaxing for some has the exact opposite effect on me, and frustrates me to the point of tears. I need to do something to get over it. Maybe I'll look into a class. I'll have to do that. Just as soon as I put out this #$#$%$ grease fire.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
7 comments:
Take a class. Someday.
But if a recipe doesn't tell you to cover the pot, don't. In general, if you follow the directions exactly, you will be OK.
And some frozen shrimp comes cooked and some doesn't. If it is pink it is cooked. If it is gray it is uncooked. Under no circumstances refreeze shrimp, it won't kill you but it will taste gross when thawed for a second time.
Or you can email me :-)
-Orangeman Mike's wife :-)
Yeah. When I was in my teens, I called my mom to ask her how to make a hot dog (I was babysitting). I still get teased for it. And recently, I asked how long to boil corn on the cob. I'm with you sister. It's what's not on there that's scary. Oh, and the multi-tasking and timing and serving it all up warm at the same time? Forget it.
Here's the thing: It's OK not to like to cook or want to do it, especially if you have a spouse who does. Surely, there are other ways you show him you love him. Maybe this can be his, without also being yours.
That said, and understanding that I am cooking literate, and therefore do not know what you're going through, one of my favorite books ever is Peg Bracken's I Hate to Cook Book. It's hilarious, and it's written for people like you, and it has great recipes and funny stories.
Recipes like: Dump a packet of onion soup mix on a pot roast, wrap in foil, cook in your oven for nine hours at 200 degrees or three hours on 300 degrees, because it really doesn't matter. (Check this before you make it; I'm not looking at the book.)
Chapter titles like: "Pot luck dinners, or how to bring the water for the lemonade"
But the awesomeness of Peg Bracken is only relevant if you want to be competent in the kitchen. Nothing wrong with not wanting to be.
Also, chichimama is entirely right, in all she says up there.
You can e-mail me, too. So can you, erin.
Also: Put out a grease fire by smothering it. You can smother it with salt, or if it's small, you can smother it with the pot lid.
Do not attempt to put it out with water, because that spreads the fire.
And do not attempt to put it out by blogging about it, because, well, that won't work at all.
another comment from another culinary illiterate: what about when you don't even know what the ingredients are in a recipe? i've had that happen to me in cookbooks for american and indian food. and they're all written in english, i swear.
like i'd once spent a very frustrating hour at the neighborhood grocery store and four trips to the cash register before i learned what a "leek" was. and i must add, my life is pretty much the same before and after gaining that knowledge.
My initial response, a bit late, like always.
JNC = jen not cook
CC = Chris can
ACC = a conner collaboration or maybe casserole? cocktail?(that proves a kitchen isn't the only place where the family action is a cooking.)
you know, i live with someone who is "ci" and i never really understood it until i read your post.
most of the time, i'm all: "WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO MAKE AN OMLETTE?!?!?!"
and he's all: "Huh?"
thanks for the clarity!
Post a Comment