The Art of Cooking by Accident
Anyone who knows me understands that Martha Stewart and I were separated at birth—otherwise she would have killed me.
For instance, I cook by accident. Oh, I’ve put together plenty of grocery lists in my time. In fact, I even have one ready to print—it is cleverly organized by the shelves in the store I shop. Of course, it’s labeled Murrishes 1995.
I basically quit using elaborate lists when I realized that somewhere about my body (I suspect my thighs—those lumps couldn’t possibly all belong to me) I harbor a small demon that lives off scraps of paper. I’ve never once made it to the check out counter still clutching a list.
So I buy mostly by feel.
I feel like ice cream. I feel like doughnuts
Of course, I also feel like eating healthy—
I’m a big believer in produce. 9 servings a day. I buy broccoli by the pickup load. But then, it sits—growing more despairing week by week. Oh, it primps up its head and tries to look perky when I open the frig but somehow the sour cream for chips ends up in my hand instead. Eventually, though, even the freshest vegetable starts looking a little tired.
If only it had started like that! Immediately, I have to cook it. Letting food go to waste is a sin only slightly less unforgivable than genocide.
So, as I said before, I cook by accident. . Potatoes with eyes long enough to peer into my bedroom—vegetable soup tonight (and let that be a lesson to you, you dastardly pale perverts). Broccoli getting limp—chopped vegi pie for dinner. Stale bread—French toast for breakfast (those aren’t moldy spots kids—that’s just penicillin in its youthful phase.)
This morning the carrots were convening a tribunal concerning the total disregard I had for their existence, the potatoes were up to their peeping tom tricks, and the onions were developing a skin disease–so I added a little meat (thank the great god of electricity for freezers) and I threw them together to let them stew in their own juices for awhile.
Really, Martha and I have a lot in common, we’re both female..uh…er…
Uh, I’ll leave it at that.