Progress on learning to cook like a proper human being has been slow because I’ve been so busy the past month or so. But baby steps are better than no steps at all and in the past weeks, I’ve tackled cheeseburgers and pancakes. (Ok, you can stop snickering…I said *baby steps*!)
The first time I tried frying up a burger, I filled my apartment with the thick smell of burning cow flesh. Ok, medium heat then. After that initial misstep, I got it down. Burger goes in the pan, flip it once or twice, slap on a piece of cheese, and stick it on a bun with lettuce, sliced raw onion, thinly sliced tomato (there can be no going back to thickly sliced tomatoes now that I’ve done thin), mayo, and ketchup. I’ve eaten better burgers, but I’ve never had one that was more satisfying than one I’ve cooked myself. I can’t wait until summer rolls around…I’m going to get a little grill and have some friends round for a BBQ** in the backyard.
The pancakes, oh, the pancakes were way yummier, fluffier, and moister*** than I would have ever expected from a novice cook working without a measuring cup on a halved recipe. I’m a fucking pancake-making natural!
** Hello to my readership south of the Mason-Dixon. When you grow up in Wisconsin, BBQ (or barbeque) means any meal cooked on a grill, regardless of the presence of slow-cooking, smoked meat, or some kind of sauce. Apologies to you and your delicious cuisine for my unfortunate regional vernacular.
*** Oh, it’s a word alright.