Cooking disaster


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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