So, I was going to jokingly “brag” about how I went temporarily insane earlier today and decided to actually COOK something. Me, otherwise known as she who would need six months of cooking lessons just to be allowed in Rachel Ray’s AUDIENCE! The same me whose only thing in common with Giada De Laurentiis, is that our first names sound alike when spoken ten times fast. Yeah, me. The person who once, in a failed attempt to cook bacon in the microwave, altered its molecular structure so severely, that the same pound of pork was later used to replace a section of the back deck in my old house.
Apparently, I’m missing a gene. What can I say?
I don’t know what got into me, except that there is something about Fall – maybe the way the clouds lean in a little closer, or the way the sun takes a few steps back – that brings out the Martha Stewart in all of us.
Wait, huh, wha? Who am I kidding? I don’t HAVE an inner Martha Stewart!!! An inner Mae West is probably more like it. Pretty sure any time she spent near an oven wasn’t for doing unnatural things like “deglazing” or “par-boiling” or what’s that other funky thing you hot shot, cooking-types do all the time? Oh yeah, “pre-heating”!!!
That’s just crazy talk.
Anyway, so I had this big plan to give cooking a whirl. I took that idea for a run, and WRACKED MY BRAIN for a dish I could tackle successfully, being that I use my oven mostly for sweater storage.
And, it hit me! Are ya’ ready? RICE!!!
No, not the instant kind, and not the “boil-in-a-bag” kind either, sillies! Peeshaw! That’s child’s play. I mean, the real, takes-20-whole-minutes-in-a-pot, rice.
Level of difficulty? For all you all, MAYBE two, tops. I get that. But for me, it’s more like a triple Lutz.
I got past the first hurdle, no problem, and that was I don’t own a measuring cup (why would I?) But I do own wine glasses, and I know how to eyeball six ounces of Cabernet like nobody’s business. I started mixing basmati rice and water between two wine glasses like a mad scientist mixes something blue and something green between two beakers. Then I did some simple math, added 10, divided by two and made it work.
So far, so good!
I found a lone pot (that I stole from the previous tenant), managed to turn on the gas burner without losing my eyebrows (bonus!) and then I figured it was smooth sailing from there on out! This cooking crap is a piece of cake!
That is, until I took my eye off the clock for a minute. Or thirty. In my excitement and anticipation of being able to “brag” about my culinary feat, I lost track of time, I guess. Or maybe the heat was too high? Or maybe it was a BAD BATCH OF BASMATI RICE! Duh! THAT MUST BE IT! Because when I turned around to give it a stir, I ended up having to CHISEL IT OFF THE BOTTOM OF THE POT. And I had to do THAT with the handle of my hair brush because I don’t own a spatula (why would I?)
In conclusion, basmati rice is not my friend. Thankfully, the Thai restaurant on my speed dial, is… — feeling Like I need six, perfectly eyeballed ounces of wine!