#157 – Having Someone Who Can Cook, Cook For (Just) You

1387414459808This deserves clarification:

Someone who can cook is someone who doesn’t just boil water for pasta or throw Pillsbury biscuits in the oven (even though they’re fucking delicious) or order Seamless.

And, it should also be noted, this excludes anyone that’s related to you. And, especially excludes anyone that has to cook for you so you don’t starve. Like, you know, your parents.

What I’m talking about is when a girlfriend or boyfriend that hasn’t done this yet makes you an unexpected (and if you’re lucky, unbelievable) meal.

Typically, I’ve been the one that’s cooked for the women I’ve been in relationships with, and I have no problem with that. I’m a decent cook, it’s something I enjoy doing, so it’s honestly a pleasure.

It’s probably because of this that I tend to enjoy the rare occasions where the script is flipped. I don’t need to do anything, I just show up with wine and eat. One girl actually made an incredible homemade dessert (In fairness, she was a professional baker, but still… homemade ice cream cake, son!)

Polar Opposite of this Feeling?: Have you ever went over a friend’s house to eat and the food was just no good?  The macaroni’s sour, the peas all mushed and the chicken tastes like wood. You try to play it off, like you’re thinking you can, by saying that you’re full. Then your friend says, “Mom, he’s just being polite, he ain’t finished, uh-uh, that’s bull!”  So your heart starts pumping and you think of a lie and you say that you already ate. Then, your friend says, “Man, there’s plenty of food.” So, he piles some more on your plate. And while the stinky food’s steaming, your mind starts dreaming of the moment it’s time to leave. Then you look at your plate, and your chicken’s slowly rotting and there’s something that looks like cheese. Then you say, that’s it, I’ve got to leave this place. I don’t care what these people think. I’m just sitting here, making myself nauseous with this ugly food that stinks. So you bust out the door, while it’s still close, still sick from the food you ate and you run to the store for quick relief from a bottle Kaopectate. It’s like that.

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