I don't remember exactly how long I was in the grocery store, but my presence there began on a road not so much paved with enthusiasm as sporadically littered with an enthusiastic resistance. This is my first, and most likely my last, time to be solely responsible for Christmas dinner. Being blessed with two aunts, a mother, and three siblings who are thoroughly marvelous cooks, I can say with a solid degree of authority, that I am a lousy cook. I spontaneously screw up the order and amounts of ingredients in cakes, of course, unless I buy them in a box and all I have to do is add an egg. I will, without thinking twice, serve a steak so rare that with a little help from a vet, it could recover. I cook so poorly I'm amazed my children and da Hubbs have not put in for transfers.
Over the years (45 to be exact) I have taken cooking as seriously as someone like myself could. I knew my motivation was rooted in fire-resistant menus; I wouldn't cook it if it was likely to burst into flames. Clearly roasting was out of the question, as was braising, sauteing, and everything involving a ladle. I've been thinking about our Christmas dinner menu for some time now, wondering what food items I deemed durable enough to withstand my underqualified, indifferent, likely-to-send-send-you-to-the-emergency-room-with-food-poisoning" culinary skills. And then it hit me . . . . we'll begin with cheddar whizzy shot straight out of the can into our mouths, along with little square Spam bits eaten with toothpicks a -la-the Rainman followed by fruit roll-ups and Altoids. But I had a hunch that the family might object. So, I closed my eyes right there in the snack aisle and shook my head like a Magic 8-Ball waiting for a different idea. I think it it is fair to say that I am often epicuriously lethargic.
The good news is that "fully cooked" has turned out to be the magic password for cooking for the holidays, just the way "let's get take out" would on a weekday or "there's no food in the house" works on the weekends. In theory, this should solve my problem . . . . . right? . . . . . well, I'll keep you posted. But in the mean time here are some marvelous food blogs that keep me laughing and inspire me to solve my "crappy cook" conundrum:
The ever creative Amateur Gourmet
The witty, tongue twister of a blog named Spork Or Foon
And a blackly hilarious blog called Suicidefood
Photos and logos courtesy Amateur Gourmet, Spork Or Foon, Suicidefood and Amazon
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