The kitchen is the one room in my house that I tend to avoid except when I make coffee, cocktail, or a sandwich, none of which need cooking skills. It's not that I can't cook but rather that I prefer someone else do it for me. I like to eat, I just don't like the making of it part.
Recipe books, yes I have a few, with their tantalizing photos and "just 5 easy steps" type directions. When a recipe indicates that there is a 30 minute preparation time, I know I must add an additional 45 minutes in order to find the various tools and ingredients that are buried in dark cabinets and drawers filled with mysterious kitchen devices. Then there's the measuring, searing, blanching... WTH! I'm sweating over the details and hoping that the stove and oven know what they're doing.
My favorite thing to make for a meal, besides a bowl of cereal, is a reservation. Let experts do the job right - everyone's a winner!
By now you may be wondering why I waxed on about cooking. My writing class prompt was an assortment of kitchen tools, many of which I knew the name of but had never dared to operate. Here's my take on the said prompt.
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Smashing, gnashing,
Whipping and rolling.
Mixing, measuring,
Separating, spreading, and spooning.
"Half baked", "cheesy", "toasted",
"Lips like honey", "finger licking good",
"Butter soft skin", "dream whip", "shaken not stirred".
How interesting that kitchen tools and rules
can mimic life so well.
If only my cooking capabilities matched
my appreciation for fine food.
Perhaps then I could shout
"reamer" with confidence.
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With that said, I'm heading to the kitchen. I am very good about using the ice maker and a cocktail sounds like the perfect recipe about now!
