Cooking Apocalypse Style

Don't tell anyone, I really did make this

With Matlock recording in the background and my fingers typing commercials and television programming, there's that itch again.  It's worse than the one you get sometimes right behind your shoulder blades.  This itch is genetic.  My mother and her mother and her mother until maybe a gorilla or something.  Even a gorilla gets this itch once in a while, although I'm sure it's no the same kind of itch.
I'm 23 1/2 years old and this itch has never plagued me until now.  I think it's a sign of the Apocalypse, the Second Coming, end of the world, beginning of World War III....whatever you think is the end of life as we know it. I'm talking about the "cooking itch".  
I've never been a cook and I'm not good at cooking anything that doesn't have printed instructions on cardboard.  Your lucky to see me combine any two ingredients for a meal or other cooking endeavors. I'm sure my mom dreamed of another domestic daughter when I was born-my sister, Lara, a natural cook/mom/good person/etc.  I was proud to be different and disgusted by this need to cook that the women in my family have.
I have been more ambitious since I added cooking to my bucket list (cooking all of the recipes in the Lewis Family Cookbook). This project isn't supposed to get bigger than one recipe a week (if I'm lucky), but this would be the 3rd recipe this week.  Cooking is becoming my cocaine.
Today I wish I wasn't working because all I can think about is pots/pans, vegetables, lasagna, taco soup, enchiladas and magical aromas proclaiming my hard work and delicious food. I am day-dreaming of cooking domestic meals, don't tell my mom.

1 comment:

  1. Is that lasagna? i am so proud of you. but where is the desert? or the breadsticks? jk. love ya