I think the title of this post just about sums up my situation. For my Betty Blogger course I'm supposed to write a cooking story. Me? I used to be the "bun girl" at pot luck suppers, it sort of went like this...
At the end of particularly gruelling week-long, yoga workshops, the workshopees, overflowing with sweat and gratitude for the visiting teacher's expertise, decides that a great way to show their appreciation is for us all to gather at one of their homes with arms overloaded with our finest gastronomic offerings and pig out. They were bursting with anticipatory excitement; I however, was not. When my absence and uncharacteristic silence became deafening they broke from their huddle, looked at me hiding in the corner and said dismissively, "You can bring the buns," before resuming their formation.
I attended many such workshops over the period of a few years and as soon as I heard the words "pot luck" I would offer proactively, "I'll bring the buns" and leave them in their huddle to plan their magic. This ritual evolved to the point that, no formal announcement was needed as I'd become "the bun girl".
It's not that I don't like food; I do. I'm a good cook but I cook because I need to eat and I happen to dislike fast food and convenience food. See, they call it CONVENIENCE FOOD not FANTASTIC YOU COULD SCRATCH YOUR EYES OUT FOOD but CONVENIENCE FOOD as in, we're not sure what exactly is in it, but you don't have to make it, yea.
I just don't like the daily grind of everything around food. For all the energy taken up by food: thinking about what to eat, when to eat, what Rod might like to eat; looking for it, buying it; trying to figure out what to do with it, preparing it; cleaning up after it - and then doing the whole damn thing over and over - please, I could live on toast. It would free up so much time for: sky diving, cattle rustling, spelunking. Not that I do any of these things, I'm spending too much time on food related matters.
My mother used to say, "I look forward to the day when they invent a pill that you could take instead of food. That would make me happy." Her food is pureed now and though you or I would gag at the idea of pureed meat...she's pretty happy with it and shovels it down with such relish that I can only imagine how deliriously happy a food-pill would make her.
Since eating is a necessity, I am a good cook, and this is a homework assignment, here is the recipe.
I could eat a shoe or just about anything else if it is curried!
But, I assure you, this is much better.
Oh yah, what's up with the weird box. That too is an assignment - use Google docs to publish this recipe.