Word of the day: gas-tron-o-my (noun) The art or science of good eating.
This morning, while laying in bed somewhere between dreaming and wakefulness, I started thinking about my ability to cook and how that compares to my beau's cooking talents.
(How's THAT for a wonderfully random thought on a Sunday morning?)
I'm not terrible when it comes to cooking, but I'm by no means a star. I do make a fantastic lasagna and I can make an entire turkey dinner by myself but living on my own has led me to become rather lazy when it comes to my own dinners and pretty much everything I eat goes from freezer to oven/stove top to plate. My main squeeze, on the other hand, is much better in the kitchen and makes sauces from scratch and seasons dishes just right and knows how to do stuff that completely boggles me. Oh, and he has this innate ability to time things just right. I still struggle with this and probably always will.
This used to bother me. I felt almost inadequate because I couldn't match his cooking ability. But this morning, laying in bed, I decided that I'm okay with my rudimentary cooking skills. Sure, I'd like to learn how to better use a knife so I don't lop off the tip of my finger or how to properly braise or poach things or even how to use my slow cooker (which I've had for over a year and is still in the box). But I realized there is no shame in not being a culinary whiz and it's okay to reference recipes for even the most basic dishes and it's even more okay to ask for help.
Besides, I make the most fantastic chocolate chip cookies. He cooks, I bake. It all evens out in the end.