At least a decent one… I could cook things and feed friends and family without poisoning anyone and with minimal face pulling and stuffing food into handbags.
I used to actually enjoy cooking. But then it became a chore. And I don’t even have kids! How pathetic is that? I blame the fact that the men in my life have always been prehistoric when it comes to food: meat, meat and maybe a vegetable now and then if they’re feeling generous. And I tend to cook very light on the meat. I’m not a vegetarian, though I should be. I just can’t be bothered to work that hard for food. Being on any special diet means you have to think and plan what you put in your mouth…. Too much hard work.
When I’m in the mood I’ll cook. Or (more likely) bake. I love baking but lately, it doesn’t seem to like me as much.
Case in point:
I’ve made apple crumble for years. I make a GREAT apple crumble… yet for some reason I burned it. It seems like almost everything I cook/bake lately is burned. In fact, if its not burned its probably not cooked.
I did manage to make a beautiful spanakopita last week – not a bit of charcoal to be found!
Normally I make my own pastry for my spanakopita, but that time I’d bought some medium thickness filo pastry from a greek deli to try. It was good, but I still prefer my rustic country pasty.
I think its time to make another spanakopita. I can live on that stuff.
I also made pasta flora last week too. This is what’s left of it: