C. recently came to the conclusion that he and I both overuse the word "Actually" an insane amount.
He pointed this out during our basement cleaning marathon Sunday. No, we don't, I protested.
And then proceeded to use "actually" in at least four instances in the next hour.
Actually, maybe he's right.
Showing posts with label Hmmph. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hmmph. Show all posts
Monday, April 7, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Culinarily Illiterate
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.
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.
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