Why I Became An Artist And Not A Chef

My culinary skills leave a lot to be desired. I am an impatient chef. I hate, no I despise waiting for water to boil. Thus I wander off in search of a superior form of entertainment, which usually comes in the form of the computer. This wouldn’t pose a problem had the computer been in the kitchen, you know your typical kitchen layout. Oven, bench, stove top, computer, fridge. Of course my computer is NOT in the kitchen, the problem with this is that sometimes when I have to wait for water to boil or something to cook in boiling water I tend to forget. I walk away like it’s someone else’s responsibility. I’m having such a great time on the computer I completely forego the fact that I have something boiling on the stove. This reminder brings about an Olympic gold medal worthy sprint down the hallway and into the kitchen where I return to find:
a. water boiling over the edge
b. burnt food or
c. food that’s still not ready!!

The times that I do decide to wait in the kitchen ever so domestically I still practice impatience. My rice is still hard. My pasta is too chewy. My vegetables are still frozen. Oh dear girl step away from that stove, you’ll be the death of us all!

It is for that reason that I simply love the simplicity of a stir-fry. Just throw it all in and watch it snap crackle and pop right before your eyes. None of this boiling water business in sight.

I have also been chastised for eating pasta without any sauce. Like it’s some kind of sin that I’ve committed, ultimately offending any pasta eater out there. Good lord I cry out! There was no sauce! My hunger pains were far too immediate to contemplate improvising. But what is pasta without the sauce I hear you say with gritted teeth. It is pasta my friend. Sure it wasn’t the best meal of my life but some bloggers cannot afford the luxury of pasta sauce. What an extravagance she will say when she sees I’ve scrawled pasta sauce on the shopping list.

I’d like to think I was hypnotised by the swirling pasta. Akin to a whirl pool, but with more elegance and less demise. The pasta swirled gracefully and freely, like a swan perhaps. A messed up swan, but nonetheless a swan.

Tonight my pasta floated like a swan. And tonight I ate chewy dry pasta.

P.S. I really am a good cook, just ask my girlfriend! Despite the fact that every time I light up the stove or turn on the oven my mum walks past exclaiming “is something burning?”.