A side effect of my now being flattened is that I'm finally taking my first steps in the gentle art of cooking. Cooking, I say!
Up until September, the food I could prepare amounted to army "cooking" (i.e. manipulating canned food, frying canned meatloaf [Richard Levy!], stealing ready food from the mess hall), making a basic tomato-cucumber-and-onion salad (nicely cut, though), and heating up ready-made food. If pressed, I could produce reasonable French fries and a basic scrambled egg.
But now I cook! I started out modest, perfecting my Famous Tuna Salad, but last night I made arnulf
and myself a real dish: Cognac chicken livers with fried onion. Sure, it's not a very complicated dish or anything, but I actually prepared it, A to Z! kritzit
provided the theory, but the execution is all mine.
My mom would have probably risked a minor cardiac arrest if she were to see me cleaning the raw liver I bought. I had never touched raw meat before. Surprisingly, I did not feel a great aversion or anything; I simply began preparing the dish... I actually enjoyed the whole thing, too! New experiences, I tell you.
More surprisingly yet, it came out yummy!
I suspect it was beginner's luck, but I managed to keep the liver very tender, and to apply seasoning with gusto but did not exaggerate. J loved it. He only complained that he's too stuffed for seconds. I waved that aside, naturally, and he ate his seconds like the good moose that he is.
I foresee adventures ahead.( Collapse )