I got into cooking about three weeks ago now. I’d just stopped working and my wife started working full-time, and since I’m only studying part-time I spent most of my new free time as a stay-at-home nester. The term “nesting” I have mostly come across in regards to pregnant women getting into homemaking (cooking, housework, setting up their baby’s new room, etc). Apparently it can also apply to non-pregnant women (and presumbaly to non-women too).
I got all excited about playing house, and did the washing, and the dishes, tidied and cleaned like there was no tomorrow. Turns out there is a tomorrow which I can spend doing some more washing and dishes and cleaning and tidying!
And I braved the kitchen.
I had previously done a bit of baking, which I quite enjoyed. The only cooking I’d really done was in some previous jobs, but always for elderly people with near non-existent tastebuds. I’d never cooked bacon (it spits and I was scared of it!) and didn’t like pots of boiling water (they spit too). Now, I suddenly don’t even think about them. The meal’s gotta be cooked, and I’m it, and it’s not gonna get cooked if I hide behind the fridge to avoid the spitting pots!
So now it turns out that I can cook! My wife even tells me I cook very well. I’m surprising myself more and more every day, as I try out new things, or repeat something I’ve made before and make it better (the cabonara is so easy I’ve made it several times, and it seems to get better each time!).
So now I think I’m up to date with all the recipes I’ve used so far and I’m sure many more will follow. Tonight’s dinner can go up once I’ve finished my last assignment for this semester, after which I am on holiday until March.
