I don’t. I’m a perfectly competent cook – and there are several things I make that are very, very good indeed – but in general the whole thing seems like a whole hell of a lot more trouble than it’s worth. I can taste the difference between Stouffers and homemade, or made from a kit and made from scratch – and Og knows I appreciate anyone who wants to go to that much trouble – but left to my own devices, I don’t.
Of course, it helps that I live alone, so I can do things like make up a batch of something over the weekend and then nuke it for several days, or throw together an omelet – but more often than not, I just nuke prepackaged food, or heat up a can of soup, or even just have a bowl of cereal or cheese and pretzels for dinner.
My ex-fiancée said my hamhocks and collard greens were the best she’s tasted – and she lives in the South. She also liked my hanhocks and blackeye peas, roast prime rib and Yorkshire pudding, and other things I cooked. I make a tender and juicy Thanksgiving turkey (with mashed potatoes, dressing and gravy), and I can eat my corned beef and cabbage for days. I made roast beef the other day, and it turned out well even though I used a cheap piece of meat. My friends like my (mindbogglingly-simple) teriyaki salmon, and I like the fresh dungeness crabs I pull out of the water. I’ve also gotten some good reviews of my Capellinin Alfredo Con Pollo (or con funghi), crock-pot BBQ beef, and other things.
I like to cook, especially for company. My problem is the more I cook, the more I eat, the bigger I get. When it just my wife and I a simple salad will suffice for dinner. If the grandkids are here (usually a couple times a week), we like to have nice full meals because we know they don’t get them at home. I just finished making a killer potato salad to have with dinner tonight and I have a cake in the oven, some friends are coming over to play Monopoly tonight. If I was to win enough money in the lotto to quit my present job, I would seriously consider opening a small restaurant.
Nope. I cook well, but that’s irrelevant. I found the process to be tedious. Hubby does all the cooking (and most of the cleaning as well). I’m just not a domestic goddess.
I don’t dislike cooking, I just don’t do it – nor do I really know how. Like twickster (I swear I’m not stalking her!), I live alone, so it’s never worth the effort to do any actual cooking. The most I’ll do is throw together a simple tuna casserole (which is my plan for this evening), or sometimes make my own macaroni and cheese. But for the most part, I rely on frozen entrees and those one-packet rice/pasta thingies – though not at the same time.
I almost feel sorry for the next man I’m in a long-term relationship with: once there are two mouths to feed, the part of me that is half Italian will want to try to do some cooking … but I’m also half Irish, so who knows if I’ll be any good! :eek:
Hmm, maybe I just need to hook up with someone who already knows his way around a kitchen…
I love to cook. I didn’t go to culinary school but I’ve been a cook of various sorts in several commerical kitchens, so I know a bit about how things are done. (Though, admittedly, we did a lot of things in restaurant cooking that you wouldn’t or shouldn’t do at home.) Unfortunately, I live alone and don’t really have the opportunity to invite people over and/or bring food, so I rarely go all out on a meal. It just isn’t worth it for one person, and a lot of things are difficult to cook in single portions. (I don’t care for reheating most foods, as a lot of things taste nasty to me after being refrigerated.) That, combined with my hour commute doesn’t really give me an incentive to do a lot of cooking.
About the most cooking I’ve done in the past year is lasagna (3-4 times), salmon baked in parchment or broiled with asperagus or sauteed vegetables, a pissalideria torte (yum, but doesn’t refrigerate well), and pretty frequently I’ll make up some dough and go on a run of pizza baking. I make stir-fry or roasted vegetables with rice pretty frequently, and once in a while I’ll get into making soups, but for the most part, it just isn’t worth the trouble. I still buy way to many provisions at the store, though. Oh, they’ve got vidalia onions on sale! And pints of strawberries for $2.99! Hey, fresh basil for $1.99/lb! Wow, look at that orange roughy, $8/lb! Then half of it goes to waste, 'cause I’m still eating leftovers from the first meal.
I like to cook. It’s a creative act for me. I’m almost always going through my spices and thinking what would go good with what.
I even did this when I lived alone. In fact, when my wife goes out of town, I usually have at least one evening where I whip up something I’ve never tried before. She’s not an adventurous eater and my step-son is the pickiest person on earth, so it’s almost not worth it cooking for them.
I love to cook, though the results are sometimes disasterous (and often wonderful). I hate cleaning up afterwards, though, and my happiest relationships have been with women grateful to be spared the cooking, delirious to eat the result of my effort, and content to clean up the mess. My only rule in the kitchen is : Stay the hell out of here while I’m cooking. No peeking, no tasting, no nibbling, no smelling underneath potlids. Just keep out. Out, out, out, right now. Yes, you. Out.
I don’t hate it. I can make quite a few things that are very, very good as well, but I don’t have any grounding in the mechanics of cooking. I don’t know how to whip up anything from scratch, I don’t know what to add in what quantity to something that would make it taste different or better - so no experimenting. I cannot for the life of me, figure out gravy. I haven’t ever made dough or baked anything - I made my first Betty Crocker cake last year.
I don’t know anything about spices beyond salt, pepper, oregano, garlic powder or cinnamon. I just used real garlic for the first time a couple of weeks ago. I may never have tasted anything containing rosemary or thyme or coriander or ginger. And what really bothers me is that the one person who could have taught me all this stuff, didn’t get around to it. And then she died before I could ask any of the questions.
But we eat well, it all tastes good. I refuse to use “_______ Helper” or microwaveable food. And even with my limited repertoire, my wife eats better at our house than she ever did at home. She has learned to cook some of the stuff I wasn’t sure about, and can now make some amazing dinners. And she had no cooking skills beyond ramen when we met! (And she didn’t even make that properly!)
If you are interested in learning about cooking methods, check out Julia Child’s books and/or Larrouse Gastronomique (which was Julia’s avowed favorite reference.) I find her basic writing and methods far more accessible than authors like Jeff Smith or James Peterson, who just want to shove their elite knowledge in your face, IMHO. It probably doesn’t hurt that she was the principle character in introducing Continental cuisine and methods to the US, so much of her instruction is very basic, and not really outdated (except for the emphasis on using proper cream, cheese, stock, et cetera rather than non-fat versions of same.)
Oh, and congratuations on discovering the joy of fresh garlic. Please promise us you’ll never go back to that powdered gunk again, and do try to avoid the minced and canned stuff. Once you learn to carmelize and/or roast garlic you’ll have discovered yet a new pleasure (though one your wife won’t appreciate so much in the middle of the night…let’s just say, go sparingly with the garlic; it’s pungency isn’t found just at the forward end of the digestive system.)
Curiously enough, me either, except for basic breads, pizza dough, and the like. Fancy deserts and elaborate pastries are beyond my ability, and frankly, not all that interesting to me. The ex-irish girl, however, was fond of the baking and less so of things prepared on top of the stove or involving sauteeing or chopping. That neat confluence of capabilities and deficits worked out quite nicely for all parties until it stopped working at all. sigh
I should do more cooking; it’s rather soothing, actually. The transition from samurai-like violence to vegetables one moment to the tender and careful ministrations to a roux the next. The warm smell of yeast, motes of flour orbiting the kitchen, the friendly sound of the oven lighting off, the neat slicing of tomatos and the energetic trimming of kale, the eye-tearing pungency of onion, and of course, the loverly smell of game hen roasting in the oven.
I don’t mind cooking. It is even kind of fun. But, living alone, and having a weird schedule, I have a tendency to eat thing which require little or no cooking. When living with my parents, I’d often cook new and different things. But when I end up eating the whole thing, I can go weeks without cooking anything worth calling cooking. (Rice-a-roni may taste good, and solve several days worth of meals at once, but it sure isn’t cooking).
I love to cook, and, if I may brag, and pretty good for not having any training or professional experience. I love cooking for other people a lot more than for myself. I get a lot of pride from people enjoying something I made. That being said, I don’t cook for myself as much as I would like to, partially because it’s sometimes awkward, since a lot of raw ingredients aren’t designed for single serving and might go bad before I use them, and because I HATE to clean, especially dishes. If I had a dishwasher at least I would do it more, but having to hand wash everything afterward (and no matter how hard I try I am always a messy cook) is not fun.
I love cooking. And I love cleaning, too. Yeah, I’m a little weird and feminists hate me. (very tongue-in-cheek, folks). I’m giving the apartment a thorough cleaning right now, I’m just soaking the trash bin in some hot water so I can scrub it out.
I’m planning on making steak and potatoes tonight, relatively simple. For dessert I’m going to make an apple cobbler. I clean as I cook, so there’s often very little mess at the end of the meal. I hate hate hate doing dishes, however, and can’t live without a dishwasher.
It’s rare not to find some kind of homemade goodies around here. Candies, cakes, cookies, muffins, etc. And for dinners, I love trying my hand at new things. Mexican and chinese foods are favourites here. I don’t always make every little thing from scratch, but I enjoy doing so (I’ve discovered instant potatoes since moving here, and will use those if I need to have dinner ready quick - and sometimes they’re just tasty). I make a killer fresh tomato sauce - to. die. for.
There’s something so satisfying about having a sparkling clean home, with the smell of hot apples and cinnamon bubbling in the oven, wafting through the apartment… mmmmm. And knowing I did it makes me all pleased and fuzzy-feeling inside.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a bin to clean, hands to wash, steaks to thaw, and apples to peel and core.
The future Mr. Stillwell is an excellant cook. I really think he missed his calling. All that time studying engineering when he could have been a gourmet chef!
Oh well. He feeds me well which is nice. I can cook, but life before him usually involved mac & cheese, sandwiches or Papa Johns.
A couple years ago I decided it was time I at least tried to learn, so I picked up Madhur Jaffrey’s Indian cookbook.
Now I like to cook because I get to eat the traditional Indian dishes I miss so much. I don’t like to cook regular meals or anything, but on the weekends I’ll make myself bhindi (okra) or saag-paneer (spinach & cheese). And I love to try complicated things.
It’s still not my favorite activity, more of a hobby.
Well…yeah. I started cooking out of boredom long ago when I was working nights. I had a lot of daylight time off and started fooling around in the kitchen. I really enjoy playing around with spices and herbs. Cooking is also tension release. I tend to cook more when my regular job is frustrating. Somehow chopping vegetables with a santoku seems more appropriate than the whole rifle-in-a-tower thing.
I made a killer bolognese sauce last night, by the way.
Seems like I was always spending a lot of time in the kitchen as long as I can remember. I had 2 uncles that retired from the Navy as cooks and I spent a lot of time with them both when they were home on leave and after they retired. My mom’s family was big on cooking and canning. 50 some odd years later I still love being in the kitchen, browsing through markets and grocery stores, and the results to my efforts usually draw raves. I’ve seriously considered leaving the business I’m in and cooking for a living. I’m afraid that doing something for a living that just love to do on my own will take all the pleasure our of it. That I’ll end up turning a love into skull drudgery.
I enjoy cooking. I don’t care much for everyday cooking dinner, but I love cooking up a ton of food for big family meals (like Christmas) or for dinner parties.
I do love baking. Especially bread, by hand (as opposed to machine). Sometime about the kneading that really releases tensions.
