This week, as I told my siblings, I have been an adult with delicious food. (Actually, in the message it was all in caps, but that might scare off potential readers.)
My parents have been away, which brings with it the freedom to experiment in the kitchen and quietly throw anything away that doesn’t turn out quite right, alongside the terrifying task of cleaning up afterwards.
So far, I’ve made an almost-normal chocolate pudding (it was just a little bit burnt on the edges which, considering my track record, could be considered the best chocolate pudding on earth), mini quiches (I used up all the pastry; once I started I couldn’t stop), banana bread, and satay chicken. Tacos are still on the list, so yes, I will be dealing with mince, but after cutting up raw chicken and making a dang good satay chicken, I’m ready for anything.
So I’m an adult with delicious food, and I don’t quite know what to do with myself. I think there’s something wrong with me; when there’s no food in the house I go into panic mode and want to bake and bake and bake, but now that there’s lots of food in the house I feel pressured to eat it all as quickly as I can.
I know, it’s ridiculous. But can I help it? Those eighteen quiches are taunting me! All stacked in the freezer with my banana bread. And we still have so many eggs in the house! I used some in the many quiches, and I’ve been eating scrambled eggs for lunch, but we have a chicken that, bless it, gives us an egg a day. It’s doing its thing and I’m appreciative, but how can I keep up with all the eggs we’re getting when I still have so many quiches to get through?
My brother is home with me, but he doesn’t like egg so I’m stuck with all of them.
Now, I love egg. I’ve made many beautiful omelets in my day and I won’t say no to some of those fried bad boys with haloumi.
But there is so much egg in the house it’s overwhelming.
Egg aside, it does feel good to cook something that comes out decent. I’m more comfortable baking, because you just mix some things together and whack it in the oven, but I haven’t done too much cooking. I mean, I’ve helped Mum on occasion, and I can do simple things on my own. It’s not that hard tipping some chickpeas in the saucepan and making a curry. (Though, for some reason, when my oldest sister came to visit the other day she ended up cooking this for my brother and I, and none of us know how that ended up happening. Why didn’t I cook in my own home when she was our guest?) And I can now confidently make a satay chicken.
But these feel like false things to be competent at! Anyone can cut up chicken and put it in the crockpot. My main fear in cooking, second to raw meat, is timing different things. For instance, having something in the oven and something on the stove and something in a frying pan. The thought of trying to get everything right gives me hives.
So yes, for the record, I can cut up a capsicum and I can cut up an onion and I can figure out a recipe. But tell me to put on some veggies and time it with a roast chicken and I’m outta here.
But you know, I’m making good progress. I’ve cut up raw chicken and cooked it properly and I feel more confident now. I feel like I have a few things I could make if I suddenly had to under bizarre circumstances. Like, if a burglar came to our house and told me to cook them dinner, I could do it, and I could even throw in a chocolate pudding for dessert because I’ve finally managed to make a not-weird one.
(For anyone who doesn’t know the chocolate pudding thing, for some reason every time I made one it turned out weird, but weird in a different way! One was super flat – I’m sure I didn’t forget the raising agent – and one was the consistency of bread dough and one was lumpy. I don’t know, okay, I’m sure I followed the recipe perfectly each time, but I am renowned for doing things as quickly as possible so who knows.)
I do want to get more comfortable in the kitchen. I still want a few more recipes up my sleeve for those burglar-circumstances, and when I’ve moved out of home I like the thought of meal planning and cooking most nights from fresh ingredients. I want to be a wholesome, frugal homemaker, and someday I shall be, one raw chicken strip at a time.
This has become a rambly post about food, and as I read it back the word EGG is screaming at me, so sorry about that. Not sorry enough to delete the many EGG statements though; we all need some egg in our lives. Unless you’re allergic, in which case – sorry. Didn’t mean to offend.
p.s. my blogging schedule feels all over the place, as I used to blog on the days I didn’t have work, but now I don’t have work, I just have uni, which means I no longer have much of a routine. Still, we’ll see how we go!