It’s not that I can’t cook. I’m a darned good cook. I can bake cakes and biscuits, I make a fantastic roast complete with tasty vegetables. My stir fries are OK (not superlative, I admit, but definitely edible). I make a delicious quiche and my risottos are time-consuming to make and all too quickly consumed by my family!
Given all that, why do I hate cooking? Thanks to Andrea’s post about hated chores, I realise what I hate is the darned cleaning up. Those greasy pots and pans that don’t fit in the dishwasher, the baking trays that should never be put in the dishwasher, the plastics that go peculiar even in the top drawer of the dishwasher. Do you see a theme here?
I think the only way out of it is to buy a new set of dishwasher-proof, very expensive pots, pans, and plastics.
Or maybe hire a nice young man as a kitchen hand. (Hey, a girl can dream!) OK, just kidding with that. I could never afford that.
So in the meantime, baking and difficult cooking is a rare weekend treat when DH is around to help clean up. I figure that since he enjoys the fruits of my labours, he may as well enjoy the hard work afterwards and maybe even bring the perspiring cook a fresh cup of Earl Grey tea.