Admit it. The last thing you cooked you had to chip out of the baking pan with a chisel. Your green beans turn out crunchy. When you open a can of Campbell’s soup it turns into something revolting before it even gets near the pot.
Your friends/kids/parents make flimsy excuses to keep from eating at your table. Your dog never begs for food. Your boss demoted you after eating at your house. Your coworkers turn their noses up at the brownies you make.
No matter what it is, whether it is microwaveable, bakeable, boilable or grillable, you just aren’t up to the task. Cookbooks are too hard for you or you think they are stupid with their rigid standards for ingredients. “Cilantro is a natural for cole slaw! It’s green, isn’t it?” you say before you attend the company picnic. You know the one – where half of the people keeled over after sniffing your concoction and your boss told you that you weren’t invited to another.
And yet, admit it:
You still tell everyone you are an awesome cook!
You know who you are. Admit your shame. Come out of the woodwork.
Oh, my stars and garters, yes! I am a BAD cook. I wish I could say differently, but I can’t, despite all efforts to the contrary.
When I have time I like to make stuff like overdone steaks in the broiler pan (I recently discovered that ole broiler pan after living in the same apartment for ten years!) or maybe my specialty: box macaroni and cheese with peas and Spam, or burnt chicken thighs with scorched peas. (For some reason I have a lot of peas on hand.)
Yeah, my boyfriend is a long-suffering, polite eater… he’ll choke down whatever I make and say thank you. A true prince.
No, I don’t, but my wife does. Not as badly as you describe, but she doesn’t have a knack for it, and is unadventurous and afraid to try. She’s been telling me for six years that she can’t make spaghetti (boil water, add pasta, stir up a few times, wait a bit, done) or bacon and eggs (I had to walk her through it last week under much protest and many questions). Mind, there are quite a few things she can make that are wonderful.
Then again, there’s that time she blew up the roast beef.
I wouldn’t exactly say I was a bad cook but I absolutely hate to do it. My mother was an excellent cook as is my daughter and they both enjoy the whole process. This talent must have skipped a generation.
Luckily my husband thoroughly enjoyed cooking so being the kind hearted person I am, let him have his creative outlet.
I am a very bad cook, mostly because I rarely practice.
Living on my own, I tend to eat something requiring minimal preparation–like cereal or a sandwich. I can make spaghetti, but not much more than that. Every now and then I’ll get ambitious and attempt to use my oven rather than just the burners on top. But that happens once every three months or so.
When I started dating my current boyfriend, I was in a panic over that fact that it was about time I invited him over and cooked dinner (he’d done it for me several times). I finally got some prepared chicken kiev thingies from the gourmet grocery in the area that required nothing more than reheating. I did steam the veggies and mix up a salad. But overall, it was pretty pathetic to think that’s all I could do.
But, hey, I liked the guy. No sense in poisoning him with my cooking!
Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever cooked something that wasn’t microwaveable or popped into the oven for fifteen minutes (like a pizza) and have it turn out good.
The last time I tried, I wound up making rice that would have made great wallpaper paste.
I loathe cooking. My mum is a brilliant cook. Children are very loyal.
Friday nights in our house is very quick dinner night. The child has a thing to go to and leaves the house by 5:30. Last Friday I made toast and nuked a can of spagetti. I poured the spagetti on the toast. TA DA…voila dinner.
The very kind child said “grandma never makes nice dinner like this”.
The child must be afraid I’m going to evict him.
I am a very poor cook. The child seems to be surviving the torture.
However…when I cook for others, I cook stuff I know will work. When I cook for myself, I try random things, and generally these don’t turn out well. Usually they’re edible but not good. I tell myself I should stick to recipes…but recently I’ve been following recipes and things haven’t been turning out either.
My parents severely disadvantaged me by kicking me out of the kitchen when I was young.
I’m a pretty good cook now, but it was not alway so. When I first moved out of the dorms and into a house shared by 4 guys, I quickly became the house cook because I had some rudimentary skills and the willingness to do it. But I remember many a conversation on the phone with my mom that were less than fruitful. You see, Mom never used recipes or even measurements. She just cooked. So when I would call and ask how much of something to add, the answer was usually, “Oh, you know. Enough.” How long to cook it? “Until it looks right.”
But still, I persevered and we did not starve. My housemates were, thankfully, quite forgiving. Even when I accidentally grabbed the worcestershire sauce for the stir-fry instead of soy sauce.
When it comes to making desserts, I’m not too shabby in the kitchen. For everything else, it’s questionable. I’ve made unintentionally green hashed browns, spaghetti that had a smell reminiscent of a playground tire, and a beef dish which elicited the common question, “What is it?” I don’t think I was so sure myself at that point.
My defense, I do not like cooking, with the exception of desserts. If I am making a meal requiring the use of more than two burners, I feel panicky. Cooking with a crockpot confuses me. One time things will come out heavenly, but later a roast with the same weight and cooked in the same fashion becomes something the stray cats would spray me for. I think I enjoy making desserts because of the associated memories around them. I often helped my Grandma make sugar cookies growing up. I helped my Mom make cookies, dessert breads, and candies for gift baskets, etc. It became a fun activity and stayed that way. The rest? Not so much. heh
