Do you KNOW how many seasons of Masterchef Australia (and New Zealand), Jamie Oliver, Ready Steady Cook and Chef’s Table I’ve watched in my life?
Let me give you a hint: it’s a serious lot.
I fucking love cooking shows. And seeing people create awesome food. And reading up on cooking techniques, and recipes and and and. I adore cooking as a skill, art and means of connecting. I do. I DO.
Yet I still find myself admitting (in pretty much every talk with every new potential) that I CAN’T cook.
What’s up with that?
The easy answer is obvious: I can’t cook. Which is technically untrue, I suppose, but still very fitting to my situation I think. Because when all is said and done, you won’t find me in a kitchen out of my own volition.
I’ll cook to prevent myself from starving. I’ll…
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