...he better say "MMM, I like it like that". -Shania Twain
Oh dear Suzanne you've done it again, for the third time this week.
1. Piece of whole wheat toast for breakfast
2. Another piece of toast right after that. Yes, I did.
3. Gourmet cracker thin pizza with homemade sauce, goat cheese, prosciutto and fresh herbs. Burned it up!
Oh and last week when I was sneaking a smidge of chocolate chip cookie dough from the Kitchen Aid mixer bowl, I wondered why it was overly salty. I mean, I only added the half teaspoon the recipe called for. Then it dawned on me that the small container of white grainy stuff in our neatly organized containers was in fact salt, not sugar!
What makes this so sad is that my husband grew up in Europe. He can go into our refrigerator and whip something up like he might be the long lost son of Julia f'ing Child. I am constantly in awe of the way that man cuts produce. I won't even try to emulate it as I would risk losing an appendage. His mother gets up at 8 AM and beings cooking some elaborate dish and at 12 PM his brother comes over and the entire family enjoys a two hour mid-day feast.
I grew up in America the daughter of a German/Irish/Midwestern mother who while a great mom and an awesome baker could not cook a meal to save her life. Bland, bland bland! My memories are of the two of us baking Christmas goodies, not cooking meals and this is apparent in my marriage. My poor husband. Now I haven't screwed up all of my culinary ventures. I can grill scallops, place them on a bed of lambs lettuce crumble grilled prosciutto on top and drizzle it all with extra virgin olive oil. I've made inventive salads and a perfectly peppered beef tenderloin. My French macarons even turned out OK, but I need a recipe, a plan that tells me to add x amount of y and place in the oven for x amount of minutes. I can't be bothered with the constant checking of the oven to make sure everything looks OK because I am on the internet, reading a book, watching TV and listening to music all while I am making dinner :)
My failures in cooking cause me to feel defeated and angry at myself but my dear husband just lets it roll off his back saying "you will learn for next time". I hope I do but right now achieving the title of domestic goddess seems like pipe dream. "sigh"
