An Introduction to Cooking at Home

Last night Jonathan made me cook dinner. This never happens. Once in a while we will cook together, which mostly means that I will stand in the kitchen and watch as he gracefully adds ingredients to a simmering pot, or chops cilantro with a fluidity that I cannot imagine possessing. Sometimes, I will hand him the salt. This is what "cooking together" generally means at our house. And every once in an extremely rare while, I will cook by myself. Cooking by myself can mean one of two things:

1. I am alone, it is late, and I am hungry. I make boxed mac and cheese, or maybe a chick'n patty with tomato sauce and mozzarella. I might even make some pasta or salad.
   
2. Jonathan is at home, I decide I want to make a recently discovered recipe. I stress out, and sweat, and he swoops in at some point to calmly help out and remind me to taste what I'm making.
   

These scenarios helpfully illustrate my two greatest foes in the kitchen:

1. Laziness.
   
2. Fear.
   

I do suffer from a certain culinary laziness. When I get home from work/play I am usually tired. I am not the sort of person who can simply whip things together based on what's hanging out in the cupboard, and magically come up with a three-course meal. I am far more likely not to eat at all than try out something new that might end up being stressful. I am also far more likely to simply order out.

As for the fear... this relates more to my inability to taste food as I cook it. I often worry that I will somehow become ill because I tasted my tomato sauce before it was well and truly done. I fear that unwashed vegetables may kill me based on some parasitic monster hiding in their flesh. I approach left-overs with the kind of paranoia that government conspiracy loons experience on a daily basis.

In other words, when it comes to food I am sick, sick, sick.

But I love food! I love eating out, I love talking about food, I love reading about food. I buy cookbooks and cooking magazine and cooking gear. I have a kitchen full of exciting gadgets (all of which benefit Jonathan more than myself), and I obsess over buying more! Yogurt maker, anyone? I even work in a delightful cookware store, where I live vicariously through my co-workers wonderful culinary tales and cooking prowess. Dear readers, it is confounding!

All of that said: Dinner. I made grilled cheese (on potato bread, with packaged American cheese) and tomato soup. I also cut up some lovely seasonal radishes and carrots, and doctored up some dressing for them. Jonathan made mixed drinks (frozen strawberries, apple juice, vodka, and triple-sec -- delicious).

We ate. No one died. It was simple, and low-stress, and not gourmet. Maybe that's a good place to start?