They may not be gourmet meals, but since leaving the parental nest many (many) years ago, I have survived and somewhat thrived on the few basic culinary skills I possess. And I was happy with my simple meals.
But then 18 months ago my friend Pat moved in and rendered me totally useless in the kitchen.
Pat enjoys cooking and experimenting with new recipes. I have been content in my new role as sous chef, blissfully chopping up whatever veggies are required for our meals, setting the table or opening pickle jars. It's all good.
Pat likes to post photos of our meals on Facebook.
Sometimes we even like to play with our food.
It's just that kind of household.
But Pat is away right now on a two-week holiday and I suddenly find myself wondering where she hides the food. It's not a big house – the food must be here somewhere. It was here before she moved in. Did she cook it all?
Oh well. I'll manage somehow.
Last night was takeout pizza. Tonight I met my friend Kimberly at the movies and enjoyed a fine meal of popcorn. Tomorrow, I'm meeting my sister Andrea and a few other friends for the Screen One showing of Hysteria. I imagine we'll go out to eat beforehand or afterward.
Ok; that gets me halfway through the week.
On Thursday my work mates and I are taking our vice president out for drinks (he's retiring), so I imagine we can order wings or something. This weekend I'm heading to the Mariposa Folk Festival, so there will be tons of delicious concession food.
Hey – this cooking business is easy! It's just like riding a bike.
Next week I've got golf (so, dinner at the clubhouse) and dinner out with my friend Carol. I head to the cottage with friends on Friday, so really, I only have to worry about two other meals.
Whew! Pat will be so proud of me surviving on my own.
Maybe I'll welcome her home with a nice, cooked meal . . . from Mucho Burrito.
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