I like watching cooking shows on the telly.
Not the kind where some mad queen is having all kinds of fits and using language that even I--and I am tough--blanch at
no
I like to watch the shows with people who really love to cook and want to share their love and knowledge with folks like me.
And so I caught a show with a Cuban lady ( skinny, but then she might have been away from her native island for many years ) showed how to make chicken with a Cuban flavor.
I love this, I thought; I can do this.
And so I did. Today. But when I counted the bowls holding chopped, minced and otherwise cut up ingredients, I said to myself....
all this for just one person !
Am I so despondent that I have to fill my counter with chopped, minced and otherwise cut up ingredients to prove that I can cook, that I have not yet succumbed to the easy way out and just getting frozen dinners.
Whatever.
It gets me working, and if the result is a deliciuos dinner, who is complaining ?
Not I.
Bitching a bit maybe. Complaining ? NO.