That's Not Cooking...

I don’t know why I do this to myself every year. 

When about December 20th rolls around, I start reflecting upon the past year. Was it a good year? What were some of the goals that I set forth a year ago? What did I accomplish from that list of goals? As I get older, I feel that this type of reflection is a good practice. It allows me to evaluate myself, and decide if I need to give myself a swift kick in the butt for the next year.

If order to have proper perspective on my goals, like many others, I create a list of New Year’s Resolutions. In my younger years, this list was more of Wish List than a true outline of my goals. For example, one year I wrote: Become Batman and set out to fight crime. 

My "Cooking" Masterpiece

First of all, I live in Brevard County; not exactly a Gotham City where I could grapple from building to building. Second, I think I’d pull a hamstring (or something worse) if I was out running around it tights. I’m almost certain that I was writing myself a joke that I’d laugh at a year later when I was reviewing my list. (And, mission accomplished. I chuckled when I read it, although I do want to be Batman.)

In recent years, my resolutions are more down to earth, and attainable. And, for the most part, I come close to achieving them. However, one in particular continues to be my nemesis: Learn how to cook. And I put it on my list every single year!

Most of you are thinking: He’s obviously joking. But I’m not. The art of cooking (and to me it’s truly an art) has eluded me all my life. Sure, like every man, I can throw a slab of meat on a grill and flip it a few times until it’s done. But, that’s not really cooking. Honestly, I think that’s a primal instinct all men are born with. What I’m talking about it true cooking – measuring, sampling, several pots and pans going at once, tasty aromas filling the kitchen, people salivating and wondering when you’ll be done. Cooking!

This year when I wrote Learn how to cook on my list I decided: Dammit, I’m gonna learn how to cook!

But I also decided that this year would be different. So, instead of jumping headlong into the cooking process (like I usually do) and giving up after making a huge mess, I was going to start slow. [Side note: One year I burned a glass-top stove. Someone asked me: “How did you burn a glass-top stove?!?!” I replied: I don’t know, but I did it!] In "starting slow", I decided that I would make “dishes” from several precooked components. You’re probably thinking: Huh??? Let me explain.

I was watching television, and a commercial came on which went something like this: 

“Hey, turn Chunky soup into a real meal!” I was instantaneously hooked! I watched as the TV mom cooked (and I use this term loosely) rice, heated up Chunky sirloin burger soup, drained the soup slightly, and then poured it over a bed of rice. I immediately thought: Ingenious!!!

The next day I went to the store and bought my ingredients:

• 1 can of Chunky soup; Sirloin Burger with Country Vegetables
• 1 package of Minute Rice (Don’t get excited. I don’t have to cook the rice. I comes in containers that I stick in the microwave.)

And I set off to create my first “dish”. Things went pretty well. I only burned my thumb…twice. I complemented my dish with a slice of white bread, buttered of course. I sat down and ate my “dish”, and it was the BEST Chunky soup and rice I’ve ever eaten in my entire life. I was so proud of myself for “cooking” a meal.

I called my friend Brian, and said, “Hey, I cooked a meal.” There was a very long pause. I’m sure he was waiting for the "but" and/or "and". Something like: “Hey, I cooked a meal…and cut off two of my fingers.”

After the long pause… “That’s not cooking,” he said. “That’s stirring!”

Leave it to a friend to drain the excitement out of the moment. Oh well, there’s always that Batman resolution to focus on. Maybe I should consider fitting myself for black and gray tights.