I mean, I enjoy baking (sometimes). And nothing on TV relaxes me quite like Ina Garten's ramblings about her garden or making Jeffrey's favorite coq au vin.
Confession: It will surprise exactly no one that I do not know what that is.
Anyway, my go-to excuse is that I don't have a kitchen stocked with all of the right accoutrements (insert sad single "I-never-got-to-use-the-radar-gun-at-Crate & Barrel" song here).
But that's kinda bullshit. I've got stuff. And I can afford to buy the spices for one-time use.
I just find it exhausting. It's so much easier to have someone else do it.
In other news, water is wet.
Every so often I feel like I should. Mainly because my boyfriend cooks for me and all I contribute is an opinion. So when his birthday rolled around, I decided to try a new pasta recipe (thanks Giada).
After going to 3 stores to find pancetta and debating for 30 minutes whether or not there's a discernible difference between fresh ground pepper and the stuff they pre-grind (there is), I finally got to this:
The birthday boy liked it (or at least he ate it).
Was I filled with so much joy & satisfaction that I have to admit this cooking thing is growing on me?
Nope.
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