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| The forgotten and forsaken domain |
I knew very early on that I could never be a chef. Fire, splattering oil, sharp knife on slippery ingredients, and the constant worry that whatever I cook is not cooked through... I was so thankful that we were put in pairs for Home Economic lessons in the kitchen. My poor partner often had to take over the portions I was squirmish about but I was always more than happy to do the dishes thereafter! As a young adult, I could never do more than instant noodles and scrambled eggs. Even when I moved into my own apartment, my standard "cooked" meal was simple wraps using my trusty waffle/panini/sandwich maker.
So when the lockdown last year forced me to rethink my resistance to cooking, encouraged and enticed by a newly renovated kitchen available to me, I decided to document my exploration into this forgotten and forsaken domain. Because.. me?!?! cooking?!?! the effort definitely deserves mention and byte space! But when I had to name the album in which I intend to collate pictures of my food creations, still concerned about the possibility of my husband and myself coming down with food poisoning, I could only come up with a "Edible?"
Seventeen months after, I have to say I come a long way.
In the initial stage with near-zero experience, I felt more secure following recipes to a T. One tablespoon means exactly that. I would use a proper measuring spoon and level out whatever ingredient that is being measured. A cup of rice to two cups of water. Placing the measuring tool on the counter top, I would lower myself to avoid parallax error in reading the measurement. I struggled with the ambiguity of corn flour versus corn starch. I googled for definitions of simmer and broil, and watched videos on how to clean or cut an ingredient. Sticking the thermometer into every meat dish. I favoured recipes that state the exact time requirements and often relied on the timer of the induction cooker. I especially disliked recipes with judgement calls such as "when the onion turn translucent". I would never start on a recipe unless I had absolutely everything in its ingredient list.
Cooking was stressful. Ha!
Just made the fifth iteration of a favourite of this household - oven baked chicken and rice. Whilst cooking, I noticed an ease and confidence in myself that was not there before. Although I was still referring to the online recipe in my tablet, I had decided to make my own judgement calls - reducing the amount of rice and matching the required amount of broth accordingly; additionally marinating the chicken in a concoction I remembered from a previous recipe; skipping an entire step because I didn't see the need to waste a non-essential foil wrap; shortening the cook time because the chicken looked done. I could hardly believe this is the same me from last year!
With how well this dish had turned out with my experimentation, I feel like I have "graduated". At least into secondary level. Hahaha... I still can't cut onions and I avoid pan-frying at all cost but cooking is no longer stressful. It is almost enjoyable. I am also starting to see how cooking for loved ones is an expression of affection regardless the standard of the food.
Thus I think it is time for me to change the name of my photo album... suggestions?
