Magic Jewball

all signs point to no

 

Things ain’t cooking in my kitchen

Filed under : Food
On October 20, 2006
At 4:30 pm
Comments : 23

Well, that was fun. I’m not sure I’ll ever have that many comments again, but that’s OK. It was good while it lasted! And it came at the perfect time because I’ve been quite busy lately, coming off vacation, and it gave me an excuse not to write anything. And this week I’ve basically had a free dinner out each night and you know I can’t turn those down. Luckily for me, Okies seem to make the best ROTM’s.

But that gives me a moment to meditate on the fact that I really haven’t cooked anything at all in the last four months. The nadir is probably this evening, where my cousin and loyal reader Pious B is coming to dinner and I ran out this morning in a panic to Kosher Marketplace (one of the five cramped local kosher shops near me) to buy apricot chicken for $10 that I could have cooked myself for $3. But the sabbath starts at 6, I’m leaving work at 5, it takes me 25 minutes to get home, chicken takes an hour to cook, etc. You do the math!

I feel like a failure. I like to cook. I’m OK at it. It’s healthier. But I get home late, I’m surrounded by excellent food of every variety and I am, as always, truly lazyass. And this week I calculated that it’s actually cheaper to buy prepared food than cook my own! Except for that chicken. Whoops.

I think what I really hate is conforming to the idea that most of you already have from Sex & the City that New Yorkers use their kitchens merely to open Chinese food containers. OK, I do this. But not all the time, I swear. It’s just that in order to afford my teeny-tiny kitchen I have to work 12 hours a day and then there’s all that nightlife. Who has time to cook? Isn’t that what people come to America for? To open delightful ethnic restaurants and bring me dinner on a bicycle?

No, no, I kid. I know the American dream is to actually receive dinner on a bicycle. But not me, I actually walked two blocks and bought mine. See? I’m not as lazyass as I thought.



Title comes from:
Crowded House – Weather With You

 

23 Comments for this post

 
Alex says

“Cook”? “Cooking”? ‘Scuse me while I go Google those terms. I’m not familiar with them.

Usually when I don’t have any idea what Becca’s talking about, it’s something to do with music. Because I actually understand baseball, tennis and Judaism.

 
RN says

The cooking thing stumps me too Alex.

 
Sarpon says

I take it the one thing they don’t sell at the ubiquitous Duane Reades (or is that Duanes Reade? like attorneys general or sisters-in-law?) is crock pots?

There is an awful lot of writing about recipes in the New York Times. Now I’m thinking it’s all a ruse to make those of us in the hinterland believe that the city is stocked with gourmets with mad culinary skills, all zesting limquats and marinating qualis for an impromtu dinner for 8 in honor of the new ambassador from Guatemala, while we heat cans of Beefaroni in the nuker and rush the kids off to bed so we can watch Dancing with the Stars uninterrupted; and all this time you’ve really coming homne from happy hour to order take-out in your jammies and watch your TIVO of Flavor of Love.

 
Sarpon says

Typos suck almost as much as a power hitter stranding three men on base in the bottom of the ninth.

Almost.

 
Jane says

I read this post this morning while making out my grocery list and planning my week’s menu, so that I can get back in the habit of cooking real food.

I live in the Heartland. Both my rent and kitchen size would make you weep. My DNA tells me I should be canning things I grew myself in my garden. A little voice in my head whispers “Grandma would be so ashamed” each time I order food delivered. I’m hoping that a pot roast for Sunday dinner will shut that voice up.

Otherwise I’m moving to New York.

 
Alex says

Sarpon, Becca can fix typos when it isn’t Shabbat. But to the best of my knowledge, her magical powers do not extend to power hitters batting with the bases loaded in the bottom on the ninth.

 
Sarpon says

Alex, while at first I’d think she did have such magic powers and chose not to bestow them upon Delgado due to insufficient love for me, upon reflection I realize that if indeed she did possess them she would have utilized them on behalf of her own team in their vainglorious efforts against the Detroit juggernaut. So I’m thinking editing and the ability to keep us hanging on her every word may pretty well represent her super-human skills.

 
Alex says

Sarpon, I thought that through almost exactly the same way you did, except for the insufficient-love-for-Sarpon part. At first I figured, Becca wouldn’t lift a finger for the Mets (except, perhaps, if they dumped a huge wad of dough on the Susan G. Komen Foundation). But then I realized, if Becca could control baseball, Jim Leyland and Ivan Rodriguez would’ve been playing golf this afternoon, which I bet they weren’t.

 
Becca says

I have a crockpot but here’s the fun kosher deal. My crockpot is for meat dishes only. That would involve changing my sink basin, dishes, silverware, etc. all for one freaking meal. I hate that.

I do fix typos but then the rest of the comments wouldn’t make sense so maybe I should leave that one.

And PLEASE. Do you think A-Rod would be a Yankee if I had any control over that sort of thing?

Jane, great, I’ll meet you at the airport.

 
Becca says

Oh, and btw, Sarpon, I was fully dressed while watching Flavor of Love, so there.

PS, go Deelishis! I knew you had it in you.

PPS, Flava Flav!

 
Celia says

I honestly think that cooking for one hardly ever makes sense. The absolute cost of a restaurant meal for one person is usually reasonable enough. Plus, at least in the not-Manhattan part of the universe, items in the grocery store aren’t really packaged for one. Unless you just want to eat Boca burgers all the time. I wouldn’t cook if I were living alone in Manhattan, either.

 
Shark says

Ever since I moved in with my roommates I don’t cook either. I mean, I would. I’m not afraid of their kitchen or anything.

It’s just that they’re always in there. And they stand in front of things. Constantly. Sure, I could ask them to move. But then they surely just go stand in front of the very cabinet holding the next thing I need. So it becomes a constant conversation of “Excuse me. Excuse me. Oops, excuse me again.” And I’m so rarely up for that.

 
kay says

Pious B’s last album kicked ass.

 
Becca says

Thanks for the validation, Celia!

Shark, you should shoot them. Mmm hmm.

Kay, just wait till you hear her next one.

 
Becca says

Just an administrative comment to tell you that:

a. New iPod song of the week.
b. Where in the World is David Nalbandian? has been updated.
c. I’m looking at a way to preserve Alfa’s Mets page, maybe as a regular post. Stay tuned.
d. See? I’m not such a slacker.

 
Sarpon says

Maybe you’d get more comments on this post if you added a picture of the chicken.

 
KP says

Yay for two, TWO, iPod songs of the week! Fabulous!
Yay For David N. ! I hope he brings us back somehting nice!
As far as cooking, I have been cooking almost since I could walk yet I still have trouble getting to it on a daily basis, especially during baseball season which this year ran from March until today. That being said, I would make you lasagna, meatballs, eggplant parm or anything else you would like anytime Bec. I would even make you my famous ice cream cake!

 
Becca says

The chicken is long gone, I am sorry to say. Wait, no I’m not. But I did make homemade, not-from-a-mix, pancakes today. I hope that’s good enough.

KP, I adore ice cream cake, thank you. Maybe even more than cupcakes, but I’m not sure.

Oh, and in my last comment I forgot “e. I added streaming audio for the title song of this post,” which is my favorite Crowded House song out of dozens of brilliant Crowded House songs.

 
Sarpon says

I don’t suppose you took a picture of the pancakes?

 
Becca says

Worst.blogger.ever.

 
Shark says

Becca, no one can ever accuse you of having bad ideas. I will also tell my defense lawyer to pin it on you when I inevitably get caught.

 
Becca says

You’re a peach, Sharkie.

 
KP says

I don’t like people in my kitchen for that exact reason Sharky. Inevitably someone is always standing in front of the cabinet or drawer I need to get into.
Everyone pretty much gets how it is at my house, but they still linger. So we will be having a party and someone will be leaning against the counter. I will give them the eyes, then they will look at me and go “I know I know. Get the f out”. I’m such a lovely host eh?