On not being able to cook (or, eating your mistakes: a tragedy in five acts)

The elusive calm (photo: Tom Urell)

Tom Urell, PRK Guest Contributor

Maybe this has never happened to you. But, if you cook, and especially if you cook for yourself, following a recipe or not, I suspect you’ve had this feeling: I made it, so I’M GOING TO EAT IT. Sometimes, though, it’s just not worth it. Your meal is not exactly a disaster, but if you’re alone, there’s no one around to joke about it with! So, you eat. Some of it, anyway.

Act I. The Setup. You don’t have to be cooking for one, but that’s often the scenario. It usually begins with an apathetic approach to the meal: I don’t really want to cook, but I’m even less inclined to go out. Besides, I have ingredients that need to be used in the fridge…

Act II. The Procrastination. I’m really not that hungry yet, and there are those dishes in the sink that I’ll need to do before I really begin. I’ll get to cooking in a little while. Sit back down in a different room, find another rerun of The Office, or try to get some more work done, but you think back to that half-onion, wrapped in lackluster saran wrap on the top shelf…

Act III. The Sloppy Prep. A rough chop is fine for the onion, right? It’s all going into the blender anyway. The corners of the rough piece burn, of course. Turn down the heat, and it stops cooking. Turn it back up, it burns again. But you don’t want to throw it out, it’s just you, and it’s not really so bad.

Act IV.  The Mess. It all happens so quickly–the sloppy seasoning, messy blender transfer or splattering spaghetti sauce–and you knew it all along but seem helpless to right the wrongs. It’s the reality of cooking for one on a weeknight. How come it seems to be that shade of brown that only happens when I cook for myself…?

Act V. The Tragic Ending. Tough collard greens, salty soup or pasta with burned bits of garlic. Disappointing at best, inedible in the worst cases.

This is the reality, I think, for those of us who don’t buy prepared food, succumb to frozen TV dinners or even own a microwave. It doesn’t always happen, and I can go months without truly wrecking a meal. But happen it does. And I feel the same way every time: the best remedy is doing all the dishes and letting the worst of it run down the drain.

2 thoughts on “On not being able to cook (or, eating your mistakes: a tragedy in five acts)

  1. Lauren

    I don’t often cook for just myself, but my husband has been privy to a couple of my kitchen disasters. Most recently, I tried my hand at saag paneer – my first foray into homemade Indian cuisine. We got a few bites in, and concurred that it was NOT worth finishing. To make up for the disappointing meal, I made an old standby the next night: enchiladas. We had no problem licking our plates clean :).